


Freighted with Memories and Dreams of Time

by Hamliet



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Redemption, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 77,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamliet/pseuds/Hamliet
Summary: Aboard the Black Whale, Chrollo, Kurapika, Hisoka, and Illumi find that they won't be able to discover a new continent without confronting the nightmares from their pasts... nightmares that keep resurfacing.





	1. Those with Many Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> I want to warn that this fic could be triggering, as it will deal extensively (though not graphically) with topics including child abuse, trauma, depression and suicidal ideation. I will put warnings before specific chapters that I think could be triggering, and as I said nothing will be graphic (most of it will be implied rather than explicitly shown), but please note that the fic as a whole will be dealing with these topics and therefore could be disturbing. Please take care of yourself.

_Swish, slush, hush._

_Slap, slip, lap._

_Shush._

Waking up every day in an encased maze, shaped like a living whale despite the fact that it was manmade, waiting for assassins and thieves determined to kill you to finally find you and attack would not be most people's idea of a fun time. But most people were not Hisoka Morow, and most people were boring. The water barely rocked the boat, and yet Hisoka could still hear the sound of it swirling around them. 

Hisoka smirked as he rose in the cabin he'd pilfered in tier 2. Among royalty and celebrities, mafia (who had no idea of his association with the Yorknew massacres) and Hunters, he was hardly hiding. The Phantom Troupe would surely make their way here eventually. They'd figure out how to just like he had. Unless they really were pathetic.

 _I'm waiting, Illumi_.

He sauntered out onto the deck. The sun's harsh rays didn't bother him, because half of him was bungee gum and texture surprise anyways. The living dead. How unexpected.

He drummed his fingers on the rail. A woman with two scars over her eye glanced at him, and then looked away. She wasn't bad looking, but the question was her nen. Hisoka could use a warm-up fight. He didn't want the bloodlust still roaring inside of him to fade. Not that it ever had.

A child's laugh rang out on Tier 1, above. Hisoka rolled his eyes. What a waste. They'd all be dead before they could ever develop their nen properly. Royal fuckwads.

He strode through the crowd. You'd think with at least two death battles going on things would be a little more exciting. He paused as a familiar aura caught his eye. A young man in a suit, golden hair flapping in the wind, spoke into a cell phone. He continued past Hisoka, not noticing. Focused.

"Hm," Hisoka mused. Kurapika. He'd always wanted to see that boy mature and grow, just like Gon and Killua. And it seemed he had. He also looked more miserable than Chrollo Lucilfer would be soon enough. He might be a worthy opponent. Maybe.

Goddammit, he needed to practice. It'd been too long. Hisoka kept note of where Kurapika headed. He'd follow him later. Track him down. Since he apparently had way more skill at tracking than the dumbass Phantom Troupe.

Hisoka swung himself up on the rail. A pair of men watched Kurapika disappear into the crowd. One of the princes, according to what Hisoka knew. A man with stringy hair and a dark aura that Hisoka found interesting in the same sense that a sinking ship would be interesting.

"Do you have any interest in that one?"

The voice rolled in around him. The salted, humid air suddenly felt suffocating. Hisoka narrowed his eyes, spinning around.

A short man crossed his arms, staring at Hisoka. The sun reflected off the top of his stupid bald head.

"Because if you don't plan on fighting that prince, I might have use for him," continued the man. "He's too raw and untrained for you, hm?"

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. "Do I know you?" He kept his tone light.

"We both know you do."

"I tend to forget any face that's not immediately relevant, and the number of people that are is quite small, so I must've deemed you irrelevant. Unless you want to fight now. I could use the practice." Hisoka flicked his fingers. A strand of bungee gum flickered.

The man shook his head. "I don't think you're any more useful to me than you've deemed me useful to you. Also, you're a good liar now. I'm impressed."

Hisoka withdraw a card and tossed it into the air. "Are you, now?" A smile played with his lips. He would love the opportunity to slit this man's throat. If he fought against him now, the Phantom Troupe would certainly hear of it. And then he could fight all of them. He could live, before he died. Or he could play a waiting game. See what his game was, and figure out how to beat him at it. Especially if he had to wait for the Phantom Troupe to actually use their brains.

"Indeed." He smiled, lips cracked. And then he sauntered over to the prince with long hair.

Hisoka watched him go, tightening his fists. Option two it was.

He tossed the card again and caught it. A cloud cloaked the sun.

* * *

"She wants you," Oito said with an apologetic laugh.

Kurapika stopped by the door. Woble held out her arms for him, cooing in her baby language. He was supposed to teach nen again that afternoon, and he had to think. He had to prepare. And he had to plan for…

But Woble grinned at him, and his heart melted. He took the baby in his arms.

He couldn't fathom that her own siblings would want to harm her. Woble reached up and placed her damp palms against his cheeks. Kurapika snorted. He poked her nose with his free hand.

The memory of Tserriednich on the second tier earlier that day seared Kurapika's mind. He couldn't let that man hurt Woble. He was the worst kind of person, collecting human body parts as trophies. His eyes. His tribe's eyes. Someone like that would think nothing of slaughtering family, children.

Tserriednich reminded him too much of the Phantom Troupe. He would like to give that man a dose of his own medicine. See him beg before he gave up the eyes. And he probably would, because he struck Kurapika as someone embroiled in arrogance, the kind of person whom Kurapika would have to break to the eyes from.

Woble whimpered. Maybe she sensed the tension in Kurapika's shoulders. He handed her back to her mother, nodding. "I'll be back shortly."

"All right," Oito agreed.

Kurapika ducked his head, unwilling to look at them as he scuttled from the room. He had to make sure neither of them even found out what it was like to lose the people you cared most about, Oito someone she was desperate to protect, Woble someone who gave her love and security. If anything happened to Oito now, she wouldn't even be able to remember—

"Kurapika?"

He turned in the passageway. Mizaistom hurried towards him. "Is something wrong?"

Mizaistom swallowed. "Is there a place for us to talk privately?"

That was a  _yes_. Kurapika nodded, leading him to his cabin. His heart pounded. "What—"

"The Phantom Troupe are on the Black Whale, and they're targeting someone," Mizaistom blurted out.

Kurapika's jaw fell open. Out of all the possibilities, that was not what he expected Mizaistom to say. "Excuse me?"

The Phantom Troupe. Faces swam in front of Kurapika's eyes. Chrollo Lucilfer, bound in chains. Pakunoda, refusing to fail her fucking leader. And Uvogin.

_Get lost, fool._

The weight of a shovel in his hand… Kurapika shuddered.

"I ran into Kalluto and Illumi Zoldyck—"

"What?" Kurapika didn't understand. Killua's brothers?

"They've joined the Spiders now, and Illumi—"

 _Joined the Spiders_. Kurapika gritted his teeth, remembering how they'd kept Killua like he was some kind of prisoner in his own home. He remembered that Illumi. The piece of shit threatened to kill Gon, acted like an emotionless puppet, entranced his own brother to kill. Because killing was all he was, and all he wanted Killua to be.  _You monster._

Monsters siding together. How fitting. Kurapika's lips curled. But that certainly complicated things. He could hardly harm a member of Killua's family.

Wait. He shouldn't be harming any Spiders at all. He had to focus. Focus on the eyes, and Oito and Woble. They were more important. But if the Spiders were hunting him… was Chrollo Lucilfer so set on revenge? For what, his wounded pride? "Thank you for telling me."

"I wasn't sure if—"

"It doesn't matter," Kurapika interrupted. "It's all—okay. They won't get here, and if they do, I'll take care of them."

Mizaisrom paled. "Kurapika…"

 _Come and find me, fuckers_. He felt his chains on his hand and curled it.

Mizaistom left, and Kurapika paced his cabin. What if the Phantom Troupe endangered Oito and Woble? Shit, he already had to worry about keeping them safe from the other members of the Kakin royal family from hell and the mafia. Now the Phantom Troupe too? Did the universe enjoy conspiring against him?

 _I won't fail._  No matter what it cost him. Hours could bleed away, but Oito and Woble would not die.

"You're not the target," interrupted a voice.

Kurapika yelped. His eyes flashed scarlet. They burned. His chains flew out. A card landed in the wall, a centimeter from his cheek. "What the bloody  _hell?"_

"Long time no see," crooned Hisoka, emerging from under Kurapika's bed.

"What the hell are you doing on this ship? What the hell are you doing in my cabin?" Kurapika shouted. "Why do you have to be so creepy?"

"I was auditioning for the role of monster under the bed," Hisoka replied, brushing away a dust bunny. "I'm surprised you allow dust in your room. It's not orderly."

Kurapika glowered.

"Oh, relax. There's no reason to go scarlet-eyed. I'm not planning on killing you."

"I'm aware," Kurapika responded. "I'm just trying to decide whether or not I should kill you."

Hisoka's golden eyes glittered. "I could use a fight."

"Never mind." He was not in the habit of giving Hisoka what he wanted.

Hisoka exhaled. "Fine. Be boring." He leaned back against the wall of his cabin. "From a mafia boss's daughter to a queen belonging to a royal murder family. You're really the peak image of justice, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're not the Phantom Troupe's target," Hisoka repeated. "I am."

Kurapika's eyes bulged. "What did you do to them this time?"

"Chrollo killed me, and it only served to make me realize that the only life worth living is the one on the cusp of death. Only then do you really enjoy it."

"You're insane," Kurapika declared.

Hisoka shrugged. "I hired Illumi to join the Phantom Troupe to kill me. It's our engagement ring."

"I don't even want to know what that means," said Kurapika. He did not—did Killua know? Did Gon? "I thought Gon was your ultimate opponent." Although it wasn't like Kurapika had made an effort to keep in touch with Hisoka. He didn't have time for the man.

Then again, he hadn't made much of an effort to keep in touch with Gon or Killua, either. Or Leorio. Or answer calls from... anyone.

Hisoka cussed. He reached past Kurapika to pluck the card from the wall and shuffled his deck. "He's lost his nen."

Kurapika crossed his arms. "So he's useless to you?"

Hisoka turned his eyes towards Kurapika. "I helped get Alluka to him. Sort of. Tell me, what did you do, Kurapika? Who did you torture to get the eyes from? How many pairs do you have left, hm?"

Kurapika felt the blood drain from his face. "You bastard."

"I just thought you should know." Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Oh, and if you're interesting in teaming up again—"

 _Oh hell no_. "That didn't work out so well last time."

"For me." Hisoka plucked an ace from the top of the deck. "Worked out just fine for you. Just don't take his nen again. Or do, but let me kill all the others."

"They'll kill you, you know. Between them and the Zoldycks—"

"We'll see." Hisoka squared his shoulders. "I'm stronger than you think. And you don't look like you're in any better shape. Had a brush with death recently, have you?"

_He walks with death every day._

_No, fuck that_. Melody said that about that bastard Lucilfer. Not him. The clock pinned to the wall ticked and tocked. "Why would you invite people to try to kill you?" Kurapika snapped. Of course, it wasn't as if Hisoka had people who cared about him, besides maybe Illumi, or not. The puppet couldn't care about anyone. "Why do you want to die?"

Hisoka snorted, strolling towards the door. He paused. "Have you looked down at the ocean, Kurapika? It's a giant mirror."

* * *

Ah, so that man hadn't arrested them after all. Illumi exhaled, perusing Tier 3 for any sign of red hair, a deck of cards, a man dressed like a joker because Hisoka would be getting too impatient to conceal himself. Especially once rumors of the Spiders being aboard starting spreading through the ship. A swarm of people always spread things. Disease. Secrets. Once unleashed it wouldn't stop.

Of course, Kalluto glared at him for a solid hour after he said that, but the boy just didn't understand. He'd learn. Now that Illumi was a Spider too, he could help mentor his littlest brother. With only the Phantom Troupe around, he might have started to embrace chaos a bit too much. He was too young for this type of life, and yet.

"I'll get food, Nii-san," Kalluto said, stomping off.

Fine. Illumi restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

_An assassin never reveals what they're thinking._

_An assassin seldom has to think._

_You learn. You act. On instinct._

He wasn't sure if the voice was his or his father's, his grandfather's or his mother's. It did not matter.

The scent of unwashed bodies was unwelcome. Did people not know how to properly shower in the Kakin Empire? Illumi wished to be back outside. But there was some sort of murderer on the loose. How dull. Illumi could probably destroy whoever it was in ten seconds. Or less.

Speaking of time, Kalluto was taking a while. Illumi checked his phone. No new messages from the one everyone called Danchou. Chrollo. Illumi would not be using that title for Chrollo just yet. He was his own boss. He was a Zoldyck before everything else.

" _We both know how this ends," Hisoka had said, staring at him with his hair down, damp. "Why not spice it up with a challenge?"_

Illumi rose, peering through the crowd. He spotted his tiny brother chatting with a stranger. A bald man whom Illumi instantly did not like. He approached. Perhaps the man was another guard determined to—

"Oh great," complained Kalluto.

Illumi blinked, weaving around an older couple and pausing behind Kalluto.

"This is my brother," said Kalluto with an exasperated sigh. "I'm sure he'll demand to know exactly what you were just telling me."

The man's eyebrows, too bushy for a bald man, rose. If only more of humanity learned that shaving your head did not make you more intimidating, it would lessen the strain on Illumi's eyes. "That's a secret, and it's up to you whether or not to share. Take care." He lifted a hand, disappearing into the crowd.

Kalluto watched him go, pink eyes dark. Illumi grabbed his brother's shoulder. "What—"

"It's about Hisoka," Kalluto reported, voice dull again. Flat. "He claims to have seen him on the second tier."

"I see my plan is already working." Illumi felt pleased. A smile settled on his lips. Granted, that was fast, but—

"Not hardly," Kalluto snapped. "He said he saw him and knew people just had to be looking for him. I think Hisoka pissed him off sometime, too."

"Language," Illumi said automatically. How unsurprising that Hisoka had made so many enemies. Throughout his entire life, and especially lately.  _Your entire life, you knew how it would end, didn't you, Hisoka? A grand finale. Achieving the ultimate pinnacle of life before I crush it._

 _"Nii-san,"_  complained Kalluto.

"Mother will have my head," Illumi pointed out.

Kalluto exhaled. He plucked his fan out from his waistband and moonwalked backwards. "Ah, but she's not here, and you are!" He grinned, and then dashed off to buy himself some sesame candy as if daring Illumi to stop him.

Why must his younger siblings be so troublesome? Illumi scowled. Not a single day went by when he didn't think about how he could gain control of Alluka, get Killua  _back_. Was this punishment for not helping him out with the ant crisis? Well, that was proof Killua was looking at it all wrong. Illumi trusted Killua to handle himself, had faith in his strength. And it paid off. Killua wasn't the one who almost died. Well, he risked his life to save that idiot person he hung around.

_I have issues, but you're just as bad._

Illumi sighed and removed that unpleasant memory, tucking it in a drawer for later. When he finally went to kill Hisoka, it would come in handy. Because it wasn't true, but that was the worst kind of lie, a lie coated in acid that seared.

 _I care. I care a lot, Killua, and you care, and I'll make sure you know it no matter what. I'll make sure they all do. No matter what I have to do. Live, die, whatever. Kill my own_ — _whatever Hisoka is_ — _to show you you can do it, too, that it won't destroy you. You'll be okay._

He just wanted his brother back. Killua did love him more than anyone. Hisoka was wrong. He was right. Killua loved him. He did.

" _Me too," said Kalluto the first night after they had met up. "I just want him back."_

They'd get him back. Illumi's phone buzzed. Chrollo. He sighed as he peered through the crowd. "Oh, where did you go  _now,_ Kalluto?"

* * *

"Mm, well, you can pass along the message then," Chrollo said, leaning against the wall in the cabin he shared with Bolonenov and Shizuku. Shizuku vacuumed up the remains of whoever used to occupy it. "We haven't found a thing, but we heard that there is a—"

"Murderer in Tier 3," Illumi answered promptly. "Yes, Kalluto and I are aware."

"Well, good." He was confident the two Zoldycks could hold their own against someone like that. Illumi was their ace card, after all, the one Hisoka wanted to die to. Which is why Chrollo wanted to beat Illumi to it, but whoever killed him didn't ultimately matter. He just had to die.

Chrollo tightened his grip on his phone. Shalnark's phone…

_Shut up._

"Kalluto did tell me he was speaking with a man who appeared to have a grudge against Hisoka as well," Illumi said. "He mentioned seeing him on Tier 2. But I've no idea who he is, and he did not offer details."

"If he's not one of us, I have no concerns about him getting to Hisoka first," said Chrollo. See, this just proved what a shitstain Hisoka was.

He couldn't get over the sight of Shalnark's body. Kortopi's head. The blood, the unceremonious, undignified—

The phone. Those abilities, now blank pages.

They were so much more than just their abilities, and Hisoka killed them without even a chance to defend themselves. Bastard.

If only he could still use Lovely Ghostwriter. Alas, that too was a blank page now. And Chrollo hated wastes. A blank page was a waste.

His heartbeat echoed inside his chest as though it were empty.

"Indeed," said Illumi. "Well. Talk to you later."

"Bye." Chrollo hung up.

"Nothing?" asked Shizuku. "Or something? Do tell." She admired the bracelet she'd stolen. It had diamonds. It was pretty. Chrollo wished he could appreciate it, but he could only think how they looked like shards of bone.

_You need more than bones to make a body._

_You killed them._

"Someone else is after Hisoka," Chrollo said. "Maybe. Or he was giving that information to Kalluto. They saw him on Tier 2. We have to get there."

"Ooh." Shizuku examined Blinky. "Well, I hope Blinky still gets to eat him."

"Don't feed Blinky trash," interjected Bolonenov. "Blinky'll get sick."

"Blinky's got a strong digestive system," Shizuku retorted. Chrollo could almost laugh. Almost.

But Shalnark loved to tease, and he was gone.

Chrollo stared at his hands and could almost imagine his fingers dissolving into ash one at a time. He used to dream that, at night, shivering as he slept in one of Meteor City's stinking alleyways. He dreamed his body was slowly fading, decaying, and he could do nothing to stop it.

But he did stop it. In his waking moments. He was the head, and they were the Spiders. They kept each other going. They were each other's legacy.

Hisoka would not take that away from him.

His life would not be a blank page, but a written one. All lives were written. His included. And Chrollo was going to make certain the last line on Hisoka's book was  _killed by Chrollo Lucilfer._

"Let's head up to the second tier," Chrollo said. "I want to have that party with Hisoka's head."


	2. The Empty Coffins

Kurapika moved through the second tier with ease. Nighttime cloaked the ship, blending sea with sky. His eyes ached.

He knew Leorio was on this ship. He could ask him about the Spiders. No, he couldn't. He couldn't concentrate on them. He had to focus on what he could actually do something about. A war between bugs and a clown was not his concern. How to keep an infant and her mother alive was.

Woble giggled. "She likes the fresh air," commented Oito. "She's not like me at all."

Kurapika glanced at the queen. He felt Woble would be like her mother in all the ways that counted. Like he was trying to be like the elders in his tribe. Loyal.

_Surely they'd be proud._

Woble let out a cry, and stretched her chubby arms out. Kurapika turned.

To see a man hoisting himself over a rail. Woble pointed towards the strange man, reaching her arms out for him for some reason. But—

"Get out of here," Kurapika said instantly, stepping in front of Oito. He summoned his chains.

"I think it's just a stowaway," Oito remarked. "Or someone from one of the lower tiers; I don't recognize—"

Breath deserted Kurapika.

Because he did recognize the man. And his coat. His frilly, stupid, ugly coat with its fur collar and St. Peter's cross on the back.

No one else on deck appeared to have noticed. But the man brushed his hair, now loose, back and sauntered off.

"Get out of here," Kurapika repeated. "Lock your door. I'll be back."

"Kurapika?"

He took off. His shoes struck the wooden deck. His fist curled. He wasn't going to let this Spider get away this time. Judgment Chain—

Chrollo's pace slowed. He turned. His eyes bugged out as he spotted Kurapika glaring at him.

 _What are you planning, bastard?_ Just because the Spiders were not his objective this time did not mean that he would not protect his world if they infested it. Kurapika's fingers twitched.

_Where do you want to do this? Here? Below deck?_

Chrollo turned, ducking inside a corridor. Kurapika hesitated, and then followed.

To instantly find himself on the other side of the passageway, transported through the air. His skull smacked the wall.

"That's not going to work a second time," snapped Chrollo.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Kurapika shouted, staggering away. He aimed Judgement Chain.

Chrollo snapped some kind of cloth through the air, blocking it. His eyes smoldered. "None of your business."

"I'm not going to let you ruin—"

"It's—"

"You selfish—"

"I don't have time to deal with your petty shenanigans—"

 _Petty?_ Rage sparked. Kurapika's eyes burned red behind their contacts. "That's all my family, my tribe's, lives were worth to you? Petty? _Petty?"_ He lunged.

Pairo, saving him.

_Pairo, I'll save you._

He vowed that. Doctors. He would earn money. He would save his friend. He would make it up. He would more than make it up. He would—and he hadn't because of _this_ bastard.

The cloth ripped his hand to shreds. Blood spattered. Fortunately Holy Chain went to work right away. Chrollo gaped as Kurapika's reconstructed hand flew at his face, decking him across the nose. He sputtered. Now his blood splashed Kurapika's knuckles. Disgusting.

Kurapika knocked him down. His fingers found Chrollo's throat. Chrollo's knee hit him in the abdomen. He rolled out from under Kurapika, fumbling for his book.

 _Hell no!_ Kurapika aimed Judgement Chain again. His elbow stuck Chrollo's neck. He—

Musical notes filled the air. Green grass, soft, brushed his hands. He rose. Peach and lavender flowers dotted the fields, and the sky was gentle, inviting, encasing him. Sweet air filled his lungs. A breeze cupped his face, kissed his forehead.

Kurapika blinked. The pastel scene faded away, and Melody stood in-between him and Chrollo Lucilfer, slumped against the wall with a bloody lip.

"The fuck was that?" Chrollo croaked.

Melody raised her flute again.

"Melody—" Kurapika tried.

"Have you forgotten why you're here?" Melody reprimanded him. "What will happen to Oito and Woble if you should get yourself killed?"

Shame gripped Kurapika's stomach with scalding fingers. He shivered. Nausea bubbled.

"Listen to your friend, Kurapika," mocked Chrollo, getting to his feet. "Or, coworker? Do you have friends?"

"And you." Melody jabbed her flute into Chrollo's chest before Kurapika could cuss him out. "What business do you have here, you thief? I could have you arrested—"

"Thieving, if you hadn't already guessed that, and I'd like to see you try."

"He's trying to kill Hisoka," stated Kurapika. "Did you know, Chrollo? That we teamed up in Yorknew?"

Melody raised her flute again. A threat. _Calm down._

"And how would you know that?" Chrollo demanded. Something dark and sinister snaked through his tone.

Kurapika crossed his arms. "If I can see to it, he'll kill everyone around you until you're the only one left."

Chrollo's face darkened. He opened his book. Melody began to play. He stopped.

"You don't have time anyway," Chrollo eked out. "You're—a bodyguard. Unless you plan on ditching your duty, but why wouldn't you? Silly me. I thought you might care about your client, but it appears—"

"Shut up." He would never ditch Oito. Not Woble. Never, never. He'd promised. He would not let another child die when he could prevent it.

"Stay out of my way, and I'll even celebrate by donating you a few pairs of stolen scarlet eyes." Chrollo tossed him a smirk that suggested he knew far too much about the Kakin royal family already. And if he knew that about Tserriednich, then what did he know about Oito?

Kurapika blanched. "The last charity I would ever accept would be from you, _asshole_."

"Oh?" Chrollo closed his book, still smiling. "I wasn't aware you were in the habit of accepting charity at all."

Melody cocked her head.

Kurapika glowered. "Don't talk like you know me."

"I don't care to." Chrollo pushed past. "Am I free to leave, Miss?"

Melody nodded, and Chrollo let himself out into the night. Kurapika shook from head to toe. He leaned against the wall. Melody grasped his arm.

"His heartbeat said he was scared," said Melody.

Kurapika perked up. "Of me?"

"No. When you said Hisoka would kill everyone around him." Melody's gaze softened. "Kurapika…"

He already felt tired from that brief use of Emperor Time. He shook his head. "I'm fine."

He left Melody standing there.

* * *

"We should start here," Illumi said, studying a map of the ship. Kalluto peered over his shoulder, drinking way too much coffee for an assassin and way too much for a child his age.

"Mm, you start there." Kalluto pointed to the opposite side. "I'll start here."

"Pardon?" Illumi frowned. Knowing Hisoka, he couldn't stand to stay on the second tier once he heard that the Spiders were all there. He'd be so bored he'd be drawn to the web Illumi was planning.

If only Kalluto would trust that plan.

"I follow my own plans," said Kalluto. "I have them."

"We're working together."

Kalluto examined his fan. "Chrollo didn't order us to."

"I'm your older brother." Kalluto was starting to act like Killua before he went full "I can take care of myself" edgelord. Illumi rubbed his forehead.

"I'll get working on my own," declared Kalluto, pushing himself to his feet. "We'll meet up in a few hours. I can keep track of you, anyways." He gestured towards the paper sticking out of Illumi's shirt.

Illumi gritted his teeth. He did not like this new attitude of Kalluto's. "Kall—"

A smirk spread across Kalluto's face. "Are you just worried someone else will kill your fiancé for you?"

Illumi blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Or maybe you don't want to kill him at all," taunted Kalluto. "Maybe my instincts after you revealed our being on the ship yesterday are correct and you are a traitor just like your pathetic clown boyfriend was."

"Kalluto!" Illumi shouted. "Don't ever say such trash again." His heart pounded. Kalluto didn't mean it, did he? Of course he didn't. "We're both here for a reason. A job."

 _"You're_ here for a job," Kalluto corrected. "I'm here to get Killua back."

Illumi gritted his teeth. "You're hardly making a good job of it. You have not seen him in years."

"At least I'm not off taking a challenge from a clown."

"I took it because I know I can win." Illumi couldn't believe Kalluto had forgotten the lesson he drilled into Killua. _Never take on an opponent you don't know you can defeat._ The Zoldyck family reputation was worth more than a foolish death.

 _You are worth more than that._ His heart clenched. He couldn't deal with any of his siblings dying.

"Can you?" Kalluto crooned. "I'll believe it when I see you kill him. But that won't happen, because I'll be bringing back his head." He gave a mock bow. "See you later, Niisan."

"Kalluto." Illumi rose. " _Kalluto!"_ He could throw a needle into Kalluto. He should.

But no. Father hadn't given him permission to do anything of the sort. It was Killua they were investing in, Killua they were counting on to be the responsible one, to carry on the Zoldyck family name and legacy.

 _Hisoka, if you let yourself die at the hands of my little brother, I will kill you again. And if you hurt Kalluto I will also kill you_. Because he doubted Kalluto could take Hisoka.

Then again… that might be the perfect plan. Not that either of them had any doubt Illumi could do it, but if Hisoka wanted some extra insurance…

Illumi leaped after Kalluto, running down the hallways. "Kalluto! Kall-Kalluto!"

His voice echoed. People looked at him but kept passing by.

 _Where the hell did you go_?

Illumi paused. There! Something glinted. He turned slightly, so the person wouldn't see him watching.

A woman with two scars on her face strode past, concealing a knife under her coat. Illumi slipped behind her. Her eyes ran to and fro, looking for someone. Something.

Illumi tossed a needle into her shoulder. She stopped where she stood. The needle tugged at her, urging her on. She followed him out onto the deck. Now he would ask her—

"Just so you know," she said, holding the needle up between two of her fingers. "I'm not weak enough to fall for this. But, I presume, you have something you would like to discuss. You're the one who name-dropped the Phantom Troupe yesterday, are you not?"

The wind whipped Illumi's hair around him. Clouds brewed on the horizon, hungry. He slid his gaze back to her. "Who are you, and who are you looking for?"

"No one," she answered. "To both questions."

"Mm." Illumi doubted that.

"You're looking for your brother, aren't you, Illumi Zoldyck?"

He stiffened.

"Kalluto doesn't seem very happy that you joined his other family, you know," she goaded. "My underlings told me."

"Your—what?" Illumi wondered what she meant. Did she fancy herself a Chrollo Lucilfer?

"Shall I kiss you and show you?"

It wasn't as if Illumi was shy of that sort of thing. He'd do whatever was necessary to complete a job. But. "I'm engaged."

"Truly?" Her eyes narrowed. "Well, that's surprising."

"How so?" Illumi inquired. The clouds grew darker, larger. He hoped Kalluto would not get seasick tonight. That was a sort of training he had yet to complete. Illumi completed his at seven. It was miserable. The memory of the bitter, sour taste of vomit almost made him gag, except it didn't anymore, because taste meant nothing to him anymore. He knew how to go on with half his blood gone, with his stomach trying to choke him, with his Achilles snapped.

"Are your parents aware? Or do they care at all?"

"Those matters are left to my discretion."

"Are they?" She chuckled. "My father is the Kakin emperor. Nasubi. He scarred my face."

Illumi forced his muscles to relax. He would not register any surprise. "I've heard of what becomes illegitimate children."

"I'm an embarrassment to him. Like Alluka is to your family, I presume? Or is that why the world has never heard of the fourth son?"

 _How much do you know?_ Illumi faced her. "Are you attempting to threaten me? I would warn you, that isn't a wise move."

"It doesn't matter." She laughed, a crackling sound that rumbled like thunder. "Don't worry. You aren't immediate targets."

"Pardon?"

"I'll let you in on a little secret," she said, leaning in. "Your little death contest to kill the clown is pointless. Just as pointless as the quest to see who will inherit the Kakin Empire. Because we've already won. No one is leaving this ship alive."

* * *

"I see someone tipped you off as well," Chrollo said when he spotted Phinks and Nobunaga approaching.

"We made it up here from Tier 5," Phinks said proudly. "Only took a few lives." He wiped sweat from his forehead. "Anything?"

"He's definitely been up here. The Chain Bastard as good as told me so."

"The what?" yelped Nobunaga, his hand flying towards his sword. "Is he working with him?"

"Maybe." Chrollo doubted it, despite the Chain Bastard's obvious threat to.

"Danchou," said Nobunaga. "I know we are focusing on Hisoka, but I haven't forgotten that man—what he did to you, to Uvo—"

"Do what you want," said Chrollo. "If it'll give you pleasure, do it. He's a bodyguard for one of the princes."

"What are you planning?" asked Phinks. "Scouting for the treasure?"

Chrollo shook his head. "Not until I catch Hisoka. That's the reward."

"Fair." Phinks nodded. "Heard one of the princes died already. We gotta catch up."

 _Or Hisoka will try to catch up._ Chrollo bit down on his tongue. Blood filled his mouth.

"A child," said Nobunaga. "A little girl."

These wealthy families, these important families, royal blood and all, pretended to be so much better. It sickened Chrollo. In reality, they were no different than the rabble scavenging the streets of Meteor City, looking through the trash for scraps to eat. Their children were trash to them, as well. Things to be thrown away. A cruel fate, but fate had taught Chrollo that it was only ever harsh, unyielding. He pitied those children to whatever extent was healthy. He couldn't allow too much pity. It rotted you from the inside out, and he knew this well.

"Where was she buried?" asked Phinks. "Burial at sea?"

"Not hardly," said Nobunaga. "Those royal bitches have to keep their bones pristine, after all."

Chrollo frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I heard it from one of the guards," said Nobunaga. "The king wasn't even crying. He seemed to think it was all—the way it was supposed to be."

"Prick," commented Phinks.

Chrollo couldn't exactly disagree with the king on that, but it disquieted him nonetheless. A doubt niggled in his mind, and he tried to shove it away. He refused to believe that it was his fate to let his crew be killed by scum like Hisoka.

"It actually might be a good way into Tier 1," Nobunaga mused.

"Oh?"

A few minutes later, and Nobunaga, Phinks, and Chrollo crawled through air vents leading to the mausoleum. Chrollo paused. "The dust is disturbed."

 _You're here on this tier now, aren't you, Hisoka_?

_Say goodbye to your head, if you are._

Chrollo hopped out, the room silent and cold. Phinks and Nobunaga landed behind him with two thuds. Chrollo stared.

Fourteen caskets lay in a circle over a patterned floor. The chill of the room crept into his skin, and it wasn't just from the temperature.

"Holy fuck," said Phinks. "Guess he came prepared."

But he only had fourteen children. So was one of these for him? Chrollo didn't understand. He wasn't certain he wanted to. What a shit father. He didn't understand what such a contest would accomplish.

He didn't have to understand. He was not a part of it, and the chaos would be opportune for him to—

The door creaked open. Chrollo grabbed Bandit's Secret. If they had to—

A woman with hair like onyx waves froze. She carried a small bouquet of flowers. Of course the Kakins would somehow have flowers on board. Her eyes glistened with tears.

"Apologies," said Chrollo. "We are leaving now." Perhaps this was the child's mother. She ought to be allowed to mourn.

"I haven't seen guards in those outfits," commented the woman.

Damn, she was sharp.

"Our apologies," Phinks said again. "We were looking for—someone."

"Or something?" The woman's breaths came quick. She was frightened.

"Someone," Phinks said. "A man who dresses like a clown. He killed some of our friends. We think he's looking for—we mean you no harm."

Chrollo narrowed his eyes. Nobunaga coughed, a cough that sounded very much like a suffocated laugh.

The woman walked past them, towards one of the caskets. She lowered the flowers onto it, the sweet scent overpowering the dull room. "Goodbye, prince," she said. "You deserved better."

"Your daughter?" Phinks inquired. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Stepdaughter," said the woman.

"Isn't it dangerous for you to be without a bodyguard? Given the—"

"My bodyguard just wanted to give privacy, and he's with my daughter. She's the only thing I care about; what happens to me doesn't matter as long as she—" The woman stopped. "Nen?"

"Hm?" Chrollo blinked.

"Your book vanished. I presume it was nen."

"Oh." Chrollo swallowed. "Yes."

"I'm Oito," said the woman. "Nasubi's eighth wife. You'd better get out of here before you get caught. Most in our family will not be so kind should they catch people sneaking between tiers, no matter your intentions. I'm sure Tserriednich would have several ideas for what to do with you, and none of them would be fit for Momoze's ears." She glanced back towards the casket.

Chrollo would like to see Prince Tserriednich try. He could gut the coward.

Oito's lips trembled as she took in the other caskets. Her daughter, more likely than not, would be filling one of these. Thirteen to go. How unfair.

The world had never been fair. It was the way things were. He needed to let this go, focus only on revenge for Kortopi and Shalnark. _We need to find Hisoka._ He could not bear to let one more member of his troupe fill a casket. Or, more likely, wind up fed to sharks. He wouldn't. They deserved more than to be fish food.

Indoor Fish filled his mind, clamped down onto his brain. He shook it off. It refused to leave. _Well, then, I'll feed Hisoka to it._

 _We will not wind up thirteen dead. We won't. We won't._ He was two down, but they would replace them. They always did. The spider kept moving. Always. It wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. It wouldn't.

"Farewell." Oito turned to leave. She opened the door.

"Ah, Oito," called a voice. "Who were you chatting to in there?"

 _Fuck_. Chrollo yanked out his book again.

"My other bodyguards," Oito responded. She jerked her head towards them.

 _You're lying for us_? Chrollo didn't understand. This woman—she would die soon. Too trusting.

The three of them followed her out, though, through an exquisite chamber. The king barely paid them attention. Chrollo caught sight of hundreds of golden items, art, furniture he would love to steal.

"A word of advice," Phinks said as they left. "You shouldn't trust—"

"I don't." She nodded at Chrollo. "My daughter spotted you earlier. She reached for you. She doesn't do that if the person constitutes a threat. If she trusts you, I do."

Chrollo shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't recall."

"We didn't speak. My bodyguard went to talk to you."

 _Your_ —oh, hell.

_Kurapika is your bodyguard, isn't he._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Hisoka gives life advice and Kurapika still refuses to regret his life choices.


	3. Unbreakable Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hisoka plays the part of the monster in the closet and Chrollo and Kurapika throw tantrums.

Kurapika approached his cabin. He hoped Hisoka wasn't in there again. God, he'd have to check under the bed, in the closet, in the vents—

"Long time no see," said another voice. A figure leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

Kurapika froze. Words deserted him.

"I missed you!" Leorio flung himself at Kurapika, wrapping his arms around him.

Kurapika was too stunned to return the hug. His mind churned ahead. He had to think. He had to—"How did you get up here?"

"Mizaistom," Leorio chattered, pulling back.

If he let Leorio up… and between that, and Chrollo—if others got up here—Kurapika's thoughts tumbled ahead and he couldn't catch them. Oito was in terrible danger. They all could be. There were so many loopholes, so many—

Leorio exhaled. "You're not happy."

"I'm a bodyguard," Kurapika retorted. "I have to—constantly be thinking about dangers to my client." He unlocked the door, leaving it open for Leorio. A quick scan revealed no obvious signs of an intruder.

Leorio shut the door behind him. "Kurapika, it's been too long."

"I know," said Kurapika. He sat on the edge of his bed, squeezing his hands.

"Are you trying to help the queen and prince escape?"

Kurapika's head snapped up. He glared at Leorio. "People could be—" He stopped himself.

"Ah." Leorio heaved himself down next to him. "It's a conundrum, isn't it? I still can't wrap my mind around what kind of father would want his children trying to kill each other all for a fancy chair."

"And a ton of power," Kurapika pointed out.

"Ach, blah. Who cares? If everyone you care about and who cares about you is dead."

Kurapika hunched over. Leorio had about as much subtlety as a bulldozer. "I'm not going to let anything happen to that baby. Or her mother."

"Hmph." Leorio rubbed his chin. "How can I help?"

Kurapika started. He looked at his friend. "You can't."

"Don't pull that."

"You can't," Kurapika insisted, squeezing his hands together. "You really can't."

"Kurapika—"

"The Spiders are on board," Kurapika blurted out. Anything to dangle in front of Leorio, distract him, like the shitty person Kurapika was. "All of them. And two of them are Killua's brothers. New members."

"Let me guess. The one we met who's dead inside and the little one." Leorio groaned. "Kurapika, please tell me you're not going to go after them."

"I only want to protect Oito and Woble."

Leorio was quiet. Their breaths filled the air. "And?"

"And get the eyes." Kurapika exhaled. "From Prince Tserriednich."

Leorio sighed. "How can I help?"

Kurapika gritted his teeth. "You can't."

"Well, I'm—"

"You can't!" Kurapika exploded. He leaped to his feet. "You can't, you can't, you can't! Don't even bother trying, Leorio! Why—why would you even bother—"

Leorio jumped up, fists tightening. His face tightened in fury. "Because Melody asked me to? And because you're my goddamn friend, whether you remember it or not, so get that through your thick skull!"

"So what?" Kurapika eked out. The stupid clock on the wall merrily chipped seconds off of the world. "Leorio, I—don't want you to get hurt." He lowered his head. "Please. Please. I couldn't live with myself if—you or—like what happened to Gon and Killua in Yorknew—"

Leorio groaned. He scratched his head. "Well, you avoiding them doesn't seem to be making them any safer, considering Gon's state after the ant incident. Or making it any easier to live with yourself, but that's neither here nor there."

"You don't understand," Kurapika said again. _I'm_ _—toxic._ He was a whirlpool, sucking anyone who got to close in, and drowning them. He could not let that happen. "If I—if I do need your help—I'll contact you."

Leorio tossed his phone from hand to hand. "The problem with you saying that is that I'm imagining you bleeding out and calling me as you're dying and, no offense, Kurapika, but I really don't want that."

Kurapika snorted. "You think you could save me?" _You can't. You can't._ He had a limited amount of time left. And he had no idea how long that was. Probably decades and decades, but still. Less than he was written.

 _I did this to myself._ And he couldn't regret it. He wouldn't, so long as he got all the Scarlet Eyes. They'd be proud of him. He could bury Pairo. His parents.

"I'm blood type O. Universal donor. You're AB, so yeah, I think I could."

Kurapika had to laugh. "Med school is good for you."

Leorio ran his hand through his hair. "So if you need a doctor…"

"You'll be the first person I call." Kurapika tossed him a smile. "And we can even pay."

Leorio… if he'd been a doctor when Pairo was young, he would have helped him. But the past couldn't be fixed, shuffled around and remixed. It was stuck.

"Remember when we met on a boat?" Leorio asked.

Kurapika actually laughed. "Everyone got seasick. Except you, me, and Gon."

"And then we got in a fistfight."

Kurapika winced. "And someone almost died because we were too busy hating each other."

"Sounds familiar," Leorio mused, and Kurapika's stomach turned to ice.

"I said I'm not chasing the Spiders this time." Though Chrollo did happen to just—come to him.

Leorio squeezed Kurapika's shoulder. "I know." He backed up, a wobbly smile on his face. "Good to see you, Kurapika. Take care of yourself, please."

Kurapika's chest ached. "I'll do my best." Leorio couldn't know about Emperor Time, but he knew something was up, didn't he?

Kurapika dropped onto his bed after the door shut, pressing his face into his knees. _I miss you._ He missed Leorio, Gon, and Killua. They were his friends.

 _I miss you_.

He felt so lonely.

"Well, well," said a voice from the bathroom. "Someone's an absolutely terrible friend."

Kurapika shrieked. He jumped up, aiming his chains. Hisoka held up his cards, grinning at him as he emerged from the restroom. "Are you hiding out in my room now? Permanently? I'd really rather you didn't; I don't want Oito endangered—"

"I don't give a damn what you'd rather or rather not," Hisoka responded, leaning against the door frame.

"Maybe I'll kill you before Chrollo can."

"I'd like to see you try, but we both know you won't."

Kurapika fell silent. His chest rose and fell. He didn't know what to say. "Please leave."

"I'm leaving, don't worry. But I must say, Kurapika, it's so interesting to see how far you've fallen, isn't it? From one of the ones who would do anything for his friends during the Hunter Exam—or, well, was that even the case? Or did you just like to use them because they were useful to you? That's how it's always been for Illumi and me, after all. Sounds familiar."

Kurapika glowered. "They are my friends." His voice shook. "I don't want them to get hurt!"

"You're a complete idiot," said Hisoka. "Man, the Kurta tribe is doomed with you as the only survivor. You and your one brain cell."

"Excuse me?" Kurapika shouted. He grabbed a book and hurled it at Hisoka, who caught it. "You idiot!"

"Well, call yourself that." Hisoka tossed the book back at him. "Although, I must say, seeing you arrive at the same place is somehow less exhilarating than I thought it would be. You've met death, too. You court it."

Kurapika's eyes widened. He couldn't know. He couldn't know. No one could.

"Ah," crooned Hisoka, covering his mouth with a card. "So I am right."

"How—"

"Your power is too strong not to be bound to something. You're not that naturally gifted, sorry."

Kurapika contemplated breaking his nose. "You're pathetic. Get out."

"Just one more question," said Hisoka, leaning against the door jamb now, hand on the handle. "Would you be interested in being a better friend, Kurapika? To Gon, Leorio, and Killua? Well, really just to Killua, but since they seem to still be affected by what happens to each other, unlike you, I—"

"Are you threatening them?" Kurapika demanded. Fuck that. He would use Emperor Time to kill this clown if he was—

"On the contrary." Hisoka's eyes darkened. He stepped closer to Kurapika. "I have a suggestion for how you can help them."

"And what's the price?" Kurapika demanded. Hisoka had no goodness in his heart to make such an offer.

"There is none," said Hisoka. "Actually, I suppose, there is. It's just that you do it."

Kurapika pressed his lips together. He didn't follow. What could be so important? Still… "Okay."

* * *

"And who might these be, Queen Oito?"

Chrollo halted behind the queen. Phinks was still shiny-eyed, gaping at her. Chrollo was not going to wipe up drool. Nobunaga looked as if he was contemplating sending Phinks for a swim in the ocean. He might need it to cool down.

"Prince Tserriednich." Oito turned and nodded at the man, stringy hair hanging around his face. The man gave them a grin. His lips looked like twisted, fat worms.

"I asked you a question."

"She's not beholden to answer you, now is she?" responded Phinks. Nobunaga stepped on his foot. Chrollo bit back a smile.

"They are my bodyguards," Oito responded. The wind whipped her hair around her face. She tucked it behind her ears.

"They don't look familiar."

"Yes, well, that's hardly surprising," stated Oito.

Tserriednich shrugged. "Where's your daughter? With that blond bodyguard?"

Chrollo instantly decided that he did not like this man. He did not like his hair, he did not like his robes, he did not like his stone-cold eyes.

"Perhaps," Oito said. "She's safe."

Chrollo contemplated using Indoor Fish on the man. It would certainly take care of part of the Succession Contest. Still, he did not want to fill a coffin himself.

"Have a good night." Tserriednich lowered his head, stalking off towards a blond woman who watched with a furrowed brow. Two other girls, giggling and scantily clad, followed.

 _Oh, so he's_ that _sort._ Chrollo had grown up seeing that type in Meteor City. People who would desperately scrabble for any hold of power they had, because they couldn't accept that they were just a blot on the world's pages. They, the Spiders, they banded together for the first time in Meteor City to take down one of those syndicates. They stole all the pimps' money and freed the people. It felt good, as did getting all the money. And afterwards Chrollo found himself looking at all those faces, some he'd known for years—like Pakunoda and Phinks—and some they'd just recruited for this job, like Feitan and Machi, and he knew he found people he could trust. People determined to carry out the same kind of legacy he wanted to.

The poorest of the poor were no different than the richest of the rich.

And this was the man they wanted to rob, after all the business with Hisoka was settled. Chrollo shook his head. He couldn't forget to do that. This man, should he ever survive, needed to be taken down a peg, reminded he was not invincible.

"Woble cried the moment she met him," Oito remarked. "She was terrified."

 _Why on earth do you trust your infant daughter?_ Chrollo didn't understand.

"She doesn't trust many people," Oito mused. "Really, you're the third person after myself and Kurapika."

 _I hate to tell you, but your child is wrong._ Chrollo bit his lip. 

Meanwhile, Nobunaga was trying not to have a conniption at the mention of Kurapika's name, and Phinks squeezed his shoulder as if to threaten to break it.

"I am not lying exactly," said Oito, pausing and looking up at the black sky. No stars were visible, and the wind picked up. A storm was very, very close. "I could use—more help. I know you're looking to rob Tserriednich. I cannot care what you do. All I care about is getting myself and my daughter off this ship. My daughter, really. I would like to come with her, but if I can't—" She wrung her dress.

Chrollo had a hard time understanding. He really couldn't fathom a mother be willing to give anything for her child. No one could afford to be that way in Meteor City. It was everyone for themselves. Love was only a means to an end, children were a comfort blanket until it grew too hot, and they were discarded.

" _Careful," Pakunoda said when she found Chrollo shivering and scratching at his lice-ridden scalp. "You scratch too much and you'll get an infection, and no one will help you."_

_She poured kerosene on his hair, combing the dumb suffocating bugs out with a gentle touch._

_Bring everyone,_ he'd thought, and she brought only herself, and at that moment he knew what she was going to do and he was powerless to stop her. But it was her choice. He comforted himself with that fact.

It was still the last time he ever saw Paku alive.

Chrollo glanced at Phinks and Nobunaga. "We're in a bit of a pinch ourselves—we're trying to locate someone."

"My bodyguard can locate anyone," said Oito.

 _Oh, can he?_ Nobunaga was practically choking. His face swelled purple.

"Besides," Oito continued. "It would give you access to tiers you do not have access to, and should you have time to take Tserriednich's fortune, well, it'll be easier from here."

Phinks looked as if he'd been struck by Cupid and Chrollo contemplated smacking him over the head with Bandit's Secret.

"I'm afraid your bodyguard and I have a past," Chrollo said pleasantly. "We do not get along."

Oito arched her eyebrows. "Well, I am sure he will come around."

 _Actually, I kind of killed his family and lead a group of thieves I'm sure you've heard of. I also recently blew up a bunch of people including kids in Heaven's Arena and I'm trying to chase the guy who I killed then but who is surprise! Alive after all and also he would have no qualms about killing you or your daughter_.

"Sure," said Chrollo, and Nobunaga about had a seizure.

Oito led them into her cabin, sending a text with her phone. She found her daughter sleeping and gathered her in her arms, the maids scattering. The baby cooed, reaching for Chrollo.

Chrollo swallowed. _I have no idea what to do with it_. He took the infant. Phinks looked almost jealous.

The door opened again. "Queen Oito?" Kurapika stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hello, Kurapika," said Chrollo. The baby was a useful shield. Almost instantly, Woble started crying. Phinks moved in to take her, and she calmed down.

Kurapika's face turned redder than his eyes ever could. "Oito—"

"Relax, Kurapika," said Oito. "I caught them sneaking around Nasubi's cabin."

"I can have them arrested," Kurapika offered sweetly.

"I'd rather we came to an arrangement," said Oito. "They aren't trustworthy with anything, I get that, but Woble trusts them not to be a threat on her life. But they're clearly talented thieves, and skilled at getting in and out of places. We could—come to an accord."

 _You really don't want to die. And_ —

 _You know who we are_. Phinks looked ashamed. Nobunaga gaped.

 _You're that desperate_. _For her_. Chrollo looked at the baby.

"Kurapika," tried Oito. "I—please."

Kurapika gritted his teeth. He yanked out his chains. Chrollo conjured his book.

"This is my dowsing chain," Kurapika said. "It can tell whether or not you're lying." He looked directly at Chrollo. "What are your objectives on this ship?"

 _Curious_. The Chain Bastard's abilities continued to fascinate him. "To find Hisoka Morow before he kills any more of my troupe," Chrollo responded.

"And do you have plans to betray the queen and the prince?"

"No." Chrollo watched in fascination. What a power to have. The chain stayed still.

"Do you swear that even if you were to be offered Hisoka's location in exchange for betraying Otio and Woble, you won't do so?"

"Sure." The chain stayed put. Kurapika scowled. He asked the same questions of Phinks, and Nobunaga. Nobunaga sounded as if his tongue was chopped in two, but he answered.

"May I speak with you alone?" Kurapika lasered his gaze on Chrollo.

"Certainly." Chrollo followed Kurapika out into the hallway. It echoed with their footsteps, their breaths. They rounded the corner, took a left, a right. Kurapika shoved open an empty room and then slammed him into the wall, elbow jabbed into his throat.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" Kurapika snarled. "Now she'll be in danger from Hisoka—"

"We'll get him before—"

"Oh, sure—"

"You—"

"It's your fault, you know!" Kurapika glared at him, removing his arm. Chrollo sucked in air. "It's your fault Hisoka is after you. You killed dozens of people because you are a selfish man who only cares about power and the next thing you can get your grubby hands on!"

"My hands are always clean, thank you."

Kurapika struck him across the face. Chrollo sent him flying across the room with Bandit's Secret.

"If you're so worried," Chrollo taunted. "Help us find Hisoka with one of your chains." _And also help me get closer to stealing your power, because I would love those chains_. "I heard you can do that."

Kurapika glowered. He had to be wearing contacts. There was no other explanation for them not being blood red right now. "He was in my room earlier today."

Chrollo started. "Oh, so it's like that, is it?"

"The fuck?" yelped Kurapika. "Thanks for assuming I'm disgusting like that!"

"It's perfectly normal for two adults to—"

"He and I—no! You're disgusting!"

It was fun getting a rise out of the Chain Bastard. Chrollo smirked. "So sex is disgusting, but murder is fine. For an obvious virgin you sure have a stick up your ass."

"You—"

Something damp and cold washed over Chrollo. Outside, thunder cracked. He doubled over, struggling to breathe. "What—are you—"

Kurapika doubled over as well, gagging. His eyes widened when he saw Chrollo in the same boat.

_It isn't you._

_And it isn't me._

_What's happening?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Chrollo and Kurapika aren't doing well in their Get Along room and Hisoka and Illumi confront each other.


	4. In the End, We Are All Hollow Skeletons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mei, who bribed me with videos of her fluffy cat to get the chapter posted a day early. :P

Kurapika gulped in air. It felt like it was made of acid, searing his lungs. His arms shook. His bones felt like they were flaking apart chip by chip.

Chrollo hissed from across the room. Kurapika glared. He had to—get up— _please_ —

And he could. He stood. His head spun and he stumbled.

"Is it over?" Chrollo whispered.

"I think so," Kurapika responded.

"The hell was that?" Chrollo sputtered. "I—"

"You tell me! You're the one who—" Kurapika grabbed the door handle. "Hey!" He shook it. " _Hey!"_  He kicked the door.

"What did the door do to you?" Chrollo asked dryly. "Let me." He shoved Kurapika out of the way. Kurapika contemplated spitting on him.

The door wouldn't open. Chrollo turned to Kurapika with wide eyes.

"We're fucked," Kurapika stated.

Chrollo threw himself against the door. "Hey!  _Hey!_ Hello? Help!"

The ship rocked back and forth. Thunder rumbled. Woble would be scared. He had to get out of here!  _Why with you, of all people?_

Chrollo opened Bandit's Secret, flipping through the pages. Kurapika glowered at him. "Gonna use the chance to try to kill me?" He conjured up his chains. It wouldn't shock him at all to learn the Phantom Troupe was behind this—and that meant Oito was in danger.

"Could you calm down for like one second?" Chrollo snapped. "I have a teleportation ability."

"Fine. If I die, at least it will be alone and without your company."

"No, I'd take you out too."

"No thanks. I'd rather die."

Chrollo hurled something at him. Kurapika yelped. His legs dragged across the wooden floor until he was at Chrollo's side. Chrollo grabbed his arm, settling on a page. And nothing happened.

"Well?" Kurapika demanded.

"It—doesn't appear to be working." Chrollo wiped his forehead. "I—it worked to get you over here, but not to take us out of this room." He looked at Kurapika.

Kurapika jerked his arm out of Chrollo's grasp.

"It's Hisoka, I know it is," hissed Chrollo. "He'll—he'll kill the rest of my Troupe; we'll emerge to find their—"

"No, it isn't," stated Kurapika. "Think rationally."

Chrollo glared at him. "How can I think rationally when he's—"

"Because of something  _you_  did!" Kurapika shot back. "If you didn't kill my tribe, Uvo—Paku—if you didn't have to prove yourself stronger than Hisoka, the others—God, are you so stupid you can't see that it is  _all your fault?"_

This time Chrollo punched him in the face. Kurapika barely flinched. He'd, for so long, wanted to say just this to Chrollo Lucilfer. " _It's your fault!"_

"It's yours, coward!" Chrollo snapped back. "You could have— _you_  killed them!"

"They had choices!"

"Bullshit!" Chrollo jabbed his finger at him. "I told you back then, didn't I? We're the same. I have nothing to say to you, you murderer. You murdered people I care for and I murdered people you care for and now—" He gripped his head.

"How do  _you_  like it?" Kurapika yelled. "Why couldn't you have thought about how it felt before you killed—how do you—"

Chrollo straightened, a cold look folding over his face. "And if you know what it feels like, then why did you—why—" His voice shook.

Kurapika blanched. He turned away from Chrollo. He leaned his head against the wall, smooth, cool. His skin tingled.

 _You don't have feelings. You're a_ —

 _I am not you_. He had friends. Friends he loved, too. His teeth chattered.

" _Would you be interested in being a better friend, Kurapika?"_

" _Okay," he'd agreed, and Hisoka grabbed his shoulder with that hand comprised of nen, proof of life and now proof of death._

" _Contact Killua. Gon too, probably. And tell them that Kalluto Zoldyck is in way over his head and unless Killua wants to lose him, he might want to consider getting him the hell off this ship like he got that sister of his out of Kukuroo Mountain."_

" _I don't understand," Kurapika burst out. He'd heard a little bit about Alluka, but_ —  _"What are you talking about?"_

_"No more details. That's it. That's my tip. And you did say you would do it." Hisoka tossed Kurapika a smirk as he pulled away and sauntered back towards the door. "Don't let me down now, unless you're really content with your word being the trash we all know it is."_

He needed to get out of here. He needed to—somehow—contact Killua. Leorio could help him, couldn't he?

But he couldn't keep his promise trapped in this bloody room. Kurapika let out a yell and punched the wall.

"Poor wall," commented Chrollo.

Kurapika rolled his eyes. He slid down to the floor, holding his knees against his chest. "How long will it take to find us?"

"I've no idea. Isn't it more likely you have a good idea? Since you work for Oito?"

"You do now, too," Kurapika reminded him.

"If we're supposed to get out of here, we will," Chrollo declared.

"We  _have_  to. Woble is not going to die."

"And you think you're the only one who can prevent that?"

"I think I don't trust those two men of yours should you not return," Kurapika responded. "And if that's your attitude in life, why don't you just wait and see what happens? If Hisoka is supposed to kill everyone, he will. If not—"

Chrollo shook his head. "I'm  _not_  losing them. I need them."

"Don't want to become like me?" Kurapika taunted.

"Not particularly, no." Chrollo turned his head towards Kurapika. "Did you?"

" _We're going to travel," Kurapika declared to Pairo. "I'll take you to see_ — _when I come back, I'll take you every cool place I've been."_

_Pairo beamed. "I know you will."_

Kurapika flinched. "I can't do a thing about the hand life's given me."

"No," agreed Chrollo.

Kurapika shifted. He did not like agreeing with Chrollo Lucilfer on anything.

_I don't want to die in this room._

_Neither do you._

_There are people outside we want to protect. There are things we have to do. Words we have to say._

"It's lonely, isn't it?" commented Chrollo. He closed his eyes.

Kurapika couldn't contradict him. He lowered his face.

* * *

_No one is leaving this ship alive._

The woman's words reverberated inside Illumi's mind. He should have no problem stopping this woman, but he needed to focus on Hisoka. Except this woman had threatened Kalluto, essentially, by vowing  _no one_ , and Illumi hardly doubted her resolve.

 _Think, Illumi._  There had to be a way for him to focus on both objectives. He would just keep Kalluto with him at all times.

Except Kalluto was making that very, very difficult. The little edgelord kept running off to investigate on his own, claiming he was able to handle himself and they could chat when they discovered something. He claimed to have a lead in that bald man he kept talking to.

Oh dear. Was he the one getting bored now?

Illumi perused the corridors, not sure if he was looking for Hisoka or Kalluto. He could contact Chrollo. Certainly Chrollo would tell Kalluto to work with Illumi, especially if Illumi threatened to take Kalluto away from all of this if he did not comply. He pulled out his phone to see Chrollo had responded to the text he sent an hour ago. Oops. He opened the door to his own cabin.

 _No,_  Chrollo had.  _He'll do what he wants._

 _No?_ Illumi's eyes bugged out.  _He's my brother!_

"Oh my," said a voice. "Has someone threatened Killua again, or shall I do it? That bloodlust will be useful."

Illumi spun around. Hisoka sat on the bed, a malevolent aura seeping from him. He rested his chin on his knee.

 _I knew it!_ Satisfaction slipped through Illumi. He knew Hisoka would get bored and find him. He withdrew his needles. "Don't make this too easy, now."

"Did I say I was planning on this being my final day?" Hisoka crooned. He tossed a card in the air. The joker.

Illumi sent a needle flying into the card.

"That was a good deck of cards, Illumi!" Hisoka leaped to his feet, yanking the needle out.

"Quit screwing around," Illumi responded. "Or your hair is next." His chest felt tight. This was it. He was either to kill Hisoka here, or Hisoka would take his head back to Chrollo. "What, did finding the other members prove too difficult for you?" He'd somehow had the idea that he would be left for last, besides Chrollo. Oh yes, because Hisoka had said so.

Hisoka hurled a card at him. It barely sliced his arm. Illumi yanked it out of the wall. "I  _said_ , quit screwing around!"

_Fight me like you mean it._

_Don't you trust me? Didn't you hire me?_

Hisoka sent a barrage of cards towards him. In the small room, there was not much space to hide. Illumi blocked them with his needles.

"You're screwing around, too, aren't you? I did hire you, after all, with everything I have!" Hisoka clenched his fists.

Now Illumi was irritated. "I have an idea. Why don't I turn you into a puppet first? I'll get you to obey my every command—take you to Chrollo—have them all kill you—"  _You hired me, you hired me because you believed in me!_

"Quit—" Hisoka sent a fist flying into Illumi's face.

Illumi kicked him in the abdomen. And then neither of them were using nen; instead they were clawing at each other, kicking, punching like children. Illumi knocked Hisoka to the floor, aiming his elbow at his throat.

"Looks familiar," Hisoka taunted, and Illumi made his fatal mistake: he froze.

* * *

_Weeks Earlier_

"Surprised to see me?" Hisoka mocked as he stepped into Illumi's hotel room.

He did not particularly like staying at fancy places, but his most recent target lived in luxury. Well, not anymore. "Do I look the sort to be surprised?" Illumi arched his brows. "I figured you'd make your way here eventually."

Hisoka tossed his cards in the air, dropping onto the king sized bed.

"If you damage this room, you are paying for it," Illumi warned. It was nice, silk sheets and a soft mattress. He was tired. Trying to keep tabs on Killua and Alluka was proving more difficult than he'd imagined.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Hisoka tossed him a smirk. "So you heard what happened?"

"I heard Chrollo destroyed Heaven's Arena and you with it." Illumi sat on the other side of the bed, contemplating Hisoka. He slid his palms along the surface. "And yet here you are."

"Not even death can stop me." Hisoka winked. The sunlight drifted through the curtains, casting a soft glow on his face.

Illumi sucked in his breath. "So you actually died?"

"I thought you were not the sort to be surprised," Hisoka taunted.

Illumi examined his needles. He seldom remembered the names or faces of the people he killed, because they did not matter. The first time he killed, he was four years old and with his grandfather, and he threw up. Grandfather rubbed his back, comforted him, and then Father came to smack some sense into him. And when he found the files with the name and face Illumi kept under his pillow, he made him throw it into the fire, watch it burn.  _It doesn't matter. What matters is you. You are a Zoldyck. This is what we do._

He'd long forgotten that person. He couldn't even remember if they were a man or a woman.

He did not want the dead to return.

"Bungee Gum restarted my heart and lungs," said Hisoka. "Since it doesn't fade after death, nen, you know."

"I'm aware." Illumi was impressed. He examined another needle. He wondered how much of Hisoka was Bungee Gum now.

"I killed Shalnark and Kortopi."

Illumi turned to Hisoka. He put the needle down. Outside, a cloud cloaked the sun, shadowing Hisoka's face.

"Chrollo uses his troupe for his power. Without them, he's nothing."

"He'd still have all the other abilities he's stolen—" Illumi began.

Hisoka leaned forward. "That's not what I mean, Illumi.  _Without them, he's nothing."_

Illumi's breath caught. He thought of Killua and Alluka, let loose in the world. Kalluto. Milluki, safely at home, but- _without them, I am nothing._  Without his name, he was nothing. Without his family legacy, he was nothing more than skin and bones, blood and a beating heart that could be stopped at the most trivial of things.

"My answer is no," Illumi responded.

"I'm sorry?"

"Father has a rule," Illumi explained. "No taking jobs related to the Phantom Troupe."

Hisoka laughed. "How's that working out for Kalluto?"

Illumi scowled. "Do not threaten my brother. I like you, but I will—"

"Trust me, after my last threat on Killua, I don't really want to see that again." Hisoka cocked his head. "You like me, hm?"

"You're useful. Sometimes. Sometimes you just annoy me. Like now." Illumi leaned back.

Hisoka rose. He put his hands on Illumi's shoulder. His hands felt strange. Like nen.  _Hisoka…_

"What are you doing?" Illumi asked.

Hisoka put a finger on Illumi's lips.

Illumi's heart skipped a beat. Dammit. Surprised twice that day. Illumi cocked his head to the side, hair cascading over his shoulders. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"You know, since dying, Illumi, I only want to experience everything to the fullest. And I must say I've always wondered what someone like you would be like in bed."

Illumi contemplated. It wasn't an unpleasant proposal.

Hisoka leaned in, breath warm and tickling Illumi's cheek. "Would you be stiff as a board, all mechanical, or are there hidden passions—"

Illumi shoved Hisoka's hand away from him, gripping that wrist he was fairly certain was a fake wrist.

"Sorry," said Hisoka.

Color him surprised three times. Now Illumi was just annoyed. He grasped the back of Hisoka's neck and pulled him down, plastering his lips against his.  _See for yourself_.

Hisoka fell back onto the bed, Illumi on top of him. God, Hisoka was already aroused. His golden eyes glinted in amusement as Illumi paused, and then he craned his neck up, pressing his lips against Illumi's throat. Illumi sucked in his breath.  _Fuck_.

His fingers roved through Illumi's hair, and Illumi, for perhaps the only time in his life, let himself lose control. He turned off that part of his mind that echoed with his father's voice, his commands. He breathed when Hisoka breathed, and he escaped for only a few moments, but they were moments he felt like he was alive, like he could feel every nerve in his body from his fingertips to his skill to his hips.

"Look," Hisoka panted as Illumi lay there, that part of his mind creeping back over him. "We both know how this ends."

Illumi looked at him.

"One of us will kill the other in the end, right?"

Illumi had never doubted it. "Yes."

"Why not make a game of it?" Hisoka rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow. Fake elbow. He leaned over Illumi. "Let's get engaged."

Illumi sat up, pulling the blanket around his shoulders to cover himself. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Don't kill the Phantom Troupe, or Chrollo. Kill me."

 _What?_  Illumi arched his eyebrows. "Do you understand what you're saying, Hisoka? I have never failed. If you do this, I  _will_  kill you."

And something twitched inside of him. He thought of his first kill again. He got home, believing Mother would be proud of him, so proud, and instead she scolded him for crying. " _You can't be soft, Illumi!"_

To kill someone you were engaged to, to kill someone you had had sex with without the intention of killing them or getting anything from it besides—wanting to—that was the ultimate display of coldness, was it not?

"Let's draw up a prenup," said Hisoka. "We can go to some lawyer or whatever. If I die by someone else's plans, you get my money. If you kill me, you also get my money. You should join the Phantom Troupe too, they'll help you." He smirked at Illumi, and then the smirk wavered. "I don't want it to be anyone else but you, so don't let me down."

Illumi swallowed. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, swollen. "All right."

* * *

Hisoka flipped him over. His head smacked the floor. Illumi kicked out, and then found he couldn't move. "Fuck!"

"Bungee Gum," Hisoka offered.

Illumi's chest heaved. Why had he hesitated? He was a complete failure. He had let Hisoka down. "Motherfucker!"

"If I use it on even more parts of your body, will you get even more profane?"

"Bastard."

"That's a step back, never mind." Hisoka glared at him. "Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't," Illumi lied. "I just—"

"How's being a part of the Phantom Troupe going for you?"

 _Why are you taunting me? Just take my head back to Chrollo_. Illumi slumped.  _I'm such a failure._ "They're rude." That would surely incite Hisoka's bloodlust.

"Including dear Kalluto?"

"Kalluto is a— " Illumi clamped his mouth shut. Hisoka's brow furrowed. "Just go ahead," Illumi said.

Hisoka scoffed. "Now, see,  _this_  is a turn off."

"Hisoka—"

"I already told you this, didn't I? From practically the first time we met. I spare those whose premature deaths would be a waste." Hisoka stepped back. He glanced down at the floor. "I still want it to be you."

Oh hell no. If there was something worse than losing to Hisoka because his body had to be stupid, it was receiving pity from Hisoka. "Why are you so goddamn desperate to die?"

"Why are you so goddamn desperate to matter?" Hisoka mocked. He leaned forward, grasping Illumi by the hair. "I'm going to tell you this once, so that you remember it next time and  _don't fucking hesitate."_ He stepped backwards towards the door, his high heels clipping against the wood. His chest heaved. "You don't matter. You never will. You know that, right, Illumi?  _You never will_. Not to Kalluto, not to Killua, not to Alluka—you are  _nothing_  to your family, and you've only ever been a tool that will outlive its use soon enough." His eyes sparked. He was trying to provoke Illumi.

And it was working. Something black and sticky churned inside Illumi. He gagged. "Shut the fuck up!"

"If you mattered to them, they would show it. Instead poor sad oldest son Illumi is just a spare." Anger tinted Hisoka's voice. He wasn't looking at Illumi.

Illumi let out a laugh. Hisoka froze, hand on the door knob. "You know what?"

"What?" Hisoka met his eyes.

"I don't have to kill you," Illumi said. "You've already killed yourself. You're a walking pile of angry bloodlust nen and you're killing everything around you."

"Then stop me," said Hisoka. "Before I kill something you love."

Something snapped. The door opened, and closed. His Bungee Gum released, but the door was locked, of course. Not that Illumi couldn't find a way out of here.

_Before I kill something you love…_

Illumi pushed the thoughts away from his mind. He was hired to kill Hisoka. He would kill Hisoka. He would prove how cold he was. He did not resent his parents, nor Killua.

Thunder exploded across the sky, and Illumi felt the tiny confines of the cabin expanding around him, and there was nobody there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Chrollo discovers a secret of Kurapika's and Hisoka finds himself failing Illumi.


	5. No Way Out

"How long has it been?" asked Kurapika.

Chrollo's head lolled back against the wall. "I'm not wearing a watch." Too long, that much he knew. Phinks and Nobunaga would be getting suspicious. Although Phinks seemed far too infatuated with the pretty queen to ever hurt her. He wondered whether that information would encourage or infuriate Kurapika. Probably the latter.

"You have no power that allows you to tell time?"

"What kind of pathetic person would you have to be to come up with that kind of power?" Chrollo snorted. "No, Kurapika. I don't."

"I hate this. I hate being here. I hate being with you."

"Are you three years old?" Chrollo moved his elbow to cover his eyes from the dull light hanging from the ceiling.

"I'm not the one that's like 'cool power, I want it, so it's mine.'"

"It's not like I ever got anything I wanted without taking it," Chrollo pointed out.

"What, were your parents strict?"

"Who knows." Chrollo shrugged, lifting his arm from his eyes. "I know nothing about my dad. Maybe I killed him. Maybe he's alive. Maybe he died before I was born. Maybe he attacked my mother, maybe she loved him, maybe they were just lonely. I don't know." He peered at Kurapika, taking in the man's red eyes. He'd clearly removed his contacts. "She kicked me out at four. She died a year later; I know because I kept tabs on her." A smile curved his face. "Or did you think everyone had a cushy life except you, poor Kurapika, the person who's suffered the worst of anybody in the world?"

"Shut up," Kurapika snapped, pushing himself to his feet again. "It's not an excuse."

"Well, from my perspective, losing people you love isn't an excuse to kill my—"

"Then what are you doing with Hisoka?"

"We're different," Chrollo said. "I don't give a fuck about justice. You do."

"Then why do you think it's wrong that he killed your friends, or buddies in crime, or whatever they were to you?" Kurapika demanded, marching over to him. He glared down at Chrollo.

"It's not wrong," Chrollo snapped. "He just—I have toe—forget it." He did not want to debate ethics with Kurapika. The boy was basically a walking bundle of logical fallacies and Chrollo would just get annoyed.

The ship pitched from right to left. Kurapika stumbled.

Something poked into him. Chrollo yelped. "What the fuck?"

"That is Stealth Dolphin," Kurapika said. "Now you won't be able to use your nen until we're out of here." Kurapika fell back against the wall. It must be some storm raging outside.

"Why don't you just use Judgement Chain?" demanded Chrollo. "Are you this fucking—"

"Because I want to check if you really can't use an ability to get out of here." Kurapika plucked Bandit's Secret from the air.

Chrollo's jaw hung open. "So you're a thief."

"Temporarily. I can only use it once. Stealth Dolphin will tell me all of your powers and how they work."

Chrollo felt rage boiling inside him. He never wanted to feel as helpless as he'd felt with Judgment Chain wrapped around his heart, and now he was, again, separated from his troupe thanks to this bloody Chain Bastard! "Keep talking," he jeered. "Or as  _Stealth Dolphin_  will soon tell you, I have enough to steal your powers the moment you give it back to me, as you'll have to eventually."

"Incorrect," Kurapika responded, paging through Bandit's Secret. His nose wrinkled. "Indoor Fish? Really?"

"I want to use them to eat you right now," Chrollo informed him. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Shame." Kurapika lazily flipped a page in his book.

Okay, by now he had to know there was nothing useful and was just toying with Chrollo. "Give it back!" A worse thought occurred to Chrollo.

"No." Kurapika continued to page through. "Worried I will tear out the pages?"

 _Exactly_. Chrollo tried to fight the panic. "I swear I will turn on your queen if you don't—"

Kurapika's scarlet eyes skewered him. "And upset Phinks?"

So he  _had_  noticed. At this point, Chrollo could do nothing but pout.  _I fucking hate this._

"Somebody's unhappy," Kurapika taunted. He flipped another page. "Oh, this one's interesting."

"Somebody's a pitiful hypocrite," Chrollo retorted.  _I want it back, dammit!_ "And I can't wait to steal your power and then never let you have it back."

Kurapika laughed. The sound ricocheted against the walls, cracking and crumbling. A chill ran down Chrollo's spine.

Kurapika turned to Chrollo, placing Bandit's Secret down. His chest heaved. His lips trembled. "Oh, really? You really want my power? I'll tell you all about it." He peered at Chrollo. His fist tightened, arms shaking. "It's called Emperor Time."

"So you're the one with a time-based—"

"It happens when I'm a Specialist," Kurapika continued. "When my eyes turn red." His voice wobbled. "And every second I spend in this state, I lose one hour of my life."

 _What?_ Chrollo gaped at him. "You're not serious."

Kurapika turned back to Bandit's Secret. Golden hair covered his face. His breaths came ragged.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Chrollo erupted. "The hell would you do—"

"I don't care!" Kurapika yelled back. His eyes still glowed red. Crimson. Because his life was bleeding away. "As long as I find—all their eyes—and bury them—that's all there is, okay? All there can be for me. That's all I care about. You and your troupe—you took the chance for any other kind of life away. I don't care. I just want to bury them."

No. Chrollo had seen too many people beg for their lives for him to accept this. He did not like this. Not at all. "Sounds like someone wants to bury himself instead."

Kurapika recoiled, as if horrified Chrollo was trying to suggest his life was worth saving. "You're the one who said your life wasn't important. Melody said you walked with death every day!"

"Because the Spider will live on!" Chrollo shouted back. "And they don't need me—I'd live on—with them—" Air burned his lungs, his throat raw.  _That hurt you that much? Enough to sacrifice your life for_ — _for eyes?_

He supposed he had no idea what it meant to be loved, not like that. Not like a family. He thought of Pakunoda, Nobunaga, Machi—he swallowed.

Maybe. Maybe, he did.

"No one will live on for me," Kurapika retorted, voice bitter, brittle.

Chrollo blinked. "But your friends. They—you were willing to give your everything for them." He knew it. "It was your weakness, only Pakunoda didn't take advantage of it, because it was hers, too."

Kurapika paled. "Well, because of that weakness, you're here now."

"Yes," Chrollo snapped. "Exactly."

"Do you ever wish it was you?" Kurapika asked, tilting his head towards the ceiling with its dull light.

"No. That's pointless, but you clearly do wish we'd killed you." Chrollo pressed his lips together. If he had been there, he would be dead.

It was an unsettling thought. And behind it floated a second one:  _do you ever wish it was you?_

_Every day._

Every day, it gnawed at him. He wished it to be—anyone else.

Why was Hisoka going after them, not him? He knew. He saw through Chrollo's facade and knew what would break him.

_I am weak._

_No!_

"Please just use something already," Chrollo requested. "I can't stand seeing you burning your life away, okay?"

"Don't pretend you care." Kurapika glared.

"I don't want to explain your dead corpse to Oito."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. He snapped his fingers.

"That one?" yelped Chrollo. He ducked. Something like fireworks shot out into the room, exploding in a cascade of pearl and ruby flames that dissipated before they hit the ground. Except for a few embers, which Chrollo and Kurapika scrambled to stomp out. "Are you crazy?"

"I was wondering why you had that one," Kurapika managed, coughing as smoke wafted through the air.

"Oh." Chrollo paused, trying to remember. "I think it made Shalnark smile. I've had that one for a long time. Since Meteor City… so probably ten years or so. I think I was about sixteen."

Kurapika studied him.

"What?" Chrollo demanded.

"I'm just trying to think of you prioritizing someone else smiling."

"Fun," Chrollo corrected. "Fun for me included. Let's not ruin my reputation."

Kurapika almost smiled. His eyes were back to their normal hue. He sank back against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

"Maybe don't set off a smoke-related power in an enclosed room," Chrollo snapped.

"I'm just tired," said Kurapika. "Emperor Time." His head lolled back, a devilish look on his face. "Hey, if you want it, I'll let you borrow it."

"I decline." Chrollo couldn't risk his death until he'd taken care of Hisoka. Because he couldn't lose them to him. He refused to accept that.

"What if Hisoka kills you first?"

 _Dammit_. Chrollo crossed his arms, staring down at Kurapika huddled in the corner. "I won't let that happen."

"What if it's your fate? Like mine is, to die young, since you—since  _you_ —"

"It's not," Chrollo insisted. "It's  _not_."

Kurapika's eyes drifted closed. Chrollo cussed and leaned down, pressing two fingers against his throat. A pulse. Thankfully.

"I swear I will stab you with one of my chains if you touch me again," Kurapika murmured.

The temptation was too great. Chrollo poked him on the top of his skull. Kurapika grabbed his wrist. "Not bad for someone dying."

Kurapika snorted.

The door to the room flew open. "I knew I heard an explosion—"

"Biscuit Krueger!" shouted Kurapika, struggling to his feet. Chrollo hesitated, and then helped him up. Kurapika stomped on his toe.  _Ow!_

"Um, hello, Kurapika," stated Biscuit.

"Someone locked us in here," said Kurapika. "With some kind of nen power."

"Who's this?" demanded Hanzo, gesturing.

"Oh." Kurapika scowled. "He's another one of Oito's bodyguards."

"It wasn't locked," Hanzo informed him.

Kurapika paled. "We couldn't open it."

"Sealed, somehow," Biscuit mused. "I imagine with nen."

"I'm impressed," Chrollo commented a few minutes later as they darted back towards Oito's quarters. Not just that Kurapika lied, but that he'd clearly been planning to use those fireworks to attract attention after all.

"Don't get used to it, murderer."

"Okay, murderer number two."

* * *

"Lie?" Chrollo asked.

"Half-truth," Kurapika corrected before reentering Oito's cabin. The look on her face suggested she knew that they were deliberately omitting the truth when Chrollo suggested they were just working out past things, but she also seemed to trust that Kurapika would tell her if she needed to know. Still, shame curdled inside of Kurapika.

He should not have told Chrollo that weakness of his. Now that he knew, he'd probably try to exploit it somehow. But Chrollo had looked genuinely horrified to see how far he'd go for revenge.

 _Still not as far as torturing children for scarlet eyes_. Kurapika pushed past Phinks and Nobunaga, who still looked like someone who would be, if possible, a far more frightening monster under the bed than Hisoka. He turned to Chrollo. Unbelievable that he would have to rely on him. "Keep your man from drooling all over her."

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep." Kurapika set off instead of sleeping, and the arch in Chrollo's eyebrows suggested he knew Kurapika had no such plans.

He made his way down towards the medical bay. He kept his handgun on him, not that he planned on using it. But if he needed to, it was probably better to use that and conserve Emperor Time.

He paused in the entryway. The smell of antiseptic filled the air, and the sound of retching echoed from behind a curtain. Seasickness, no doubt, with the storm. Kurapika clung to a bolted desk to keep from pitching over himself. At least the thunder had stopped.

Leorio hurried into the room. "Cheadle, I—" He froze.

Kurapika gave an awkward wave. "Hi."

Leorio pushed his glasses up his nose. "Shit. Well, I—"

"Take five, Leorio," called the green-haired woman. She gave him an understanding smile.

Leorio grabbed Kurapika and hustled him to a small curtained-off section. Kurapika grabbed a shelf. Leorio steadied himself. "Is everything okay?"

"Well, Oito hired Chrollo, Phinks, and Nobunaga, so—"

"She what?" Leorio exploded. "Does she—know?"

"Apparently, but not about—everything." Kurapika swallowed. "Leorio…" He detailed what had happened in the small room they were locked in. "Neither of us saw it coming."

"Ordinarily that would terrify me, but I also wonder—since the two of you were together, presumably screaming at each other—well—"

Kurapika scowled. "There's no way to prevent that kind of attack."

"I know." Leorio let out his breath. "Want me to talk to Cheadle? She might know something."

Kurapika nodded. Hisoka's words lingered in his mind.

_I am a terrible friend._

_I am a terrible son._

_I am a terrible person, and bodyguard._

_But I want to do this one thing right, even if I don't understand_. The dowsing chain had indicated Hisoka had no intent to deceive him. Kurapika wagered Hisoka could count the amount of times that was true in his entire life on one hand.

"I got a tip from—someone," Kurapika said, choosing his words carefully. "Kalluto Zoldyck is in way over his head. He needs to get off the ship. This person asked me to contact Killua and Gon, ask them to intervene."

Leorio scratched his head. "In danger? From what?"

Kurapika shook his head. "They weren't lying."

" _You_  contact them," Leorio said. He lurched forward, catching himself before he slammed into a wall. "They'll be glad to hear from you."

Kurapika flinched. A lump grew in his throat. "No. It has to be you."

"You want me to  _he said he said_  them?" Leorio scowled.

"I want you to help Killua," said Kurapika. "This person wasn't joking, Leorio."  _Please_.

He didn't have the right to say it. Behind the curtain, a cart wheeling around, out of control, squeaked and squealed.

Leorio made no move towards it. "No, Kurapika. If you feel so badly that you didn't go see Gon when he was sick, you can just say so."

"I was busy—"

"Ignoring the dying for the dead?" Leorio tossed him the saddest smile Kurapika had ever seen. Something shattered inside him. "Kurapika. Please."

_Please._

_Please._  Kurapika clamped his hands over his ears. Tears filled his eyes. "Leorio… you have to do it. Not for me. Do it for them."

Leorio cussed. The cart came flying through the curtains. Leorio grabbed it. He gave Kurapika an agonized look, lips pulled back, brow creased.

 _I'm too far gone for you to save me, Leorio_. "I'm sorry." Kurapika pushed through the curtains.  _You'd hate me if you knew just how far I'd gone, and you always want to save people, don't you? It's why you wanted to be a Hunter. It's why you're a doctor now._

_I want to bury the dead._

_I am the dead._

* * *

_He hesitated._

Hisoka wouldn't. He had to ensure Illumi wouldn't hesitate next time. Because if it wasn't Illumi, it would be one of the Phantom Troupe, and Hisoka had been there, done that. Or it would be—no.

He had to ensure Illumi would fight him.

He had to.

There was only one way to do that. Hisoka watched as Kalluto Zoldyck made his way away from that fucking bald man whom Hisoka would like to pitch over the side of the boat. Kalluto's source, no doubt. Zoldyck or no Zoldyck, Kalluto was still a pre-teen. He'd warned Kurapika because the idea of Kalluto not being able to grow and develop was just sad. A waste. And if Kalluto kept trusting the wrong people he would wind up dead.

So Hisoka had to scare Kalluto. To get Illumi to fight him. To kill him.

 _I'm tired of feeling dead._ Hisoka held up his hands. Bungee Gum. Texture Surprise. He used to spend any money he could find on those two things. Bungee Gum at least made him feel like he had something in his stomach for longer than a slice of bread would. Texture Surprise made him smile.

A threat should be enough to convince Illumi he had to do something, or else. Hisoka waited for Kalluto to follow his usual path back to the cabin. Down the stairs. Hisoka tossed the first card.

Kalluto didn't disappoint. He whirled around, blocked it with his fan. His eyes lit up in excitement. Thinking he could win.

_You can't, kid._

Hisoka swung himself down the stairs, hurling more cards. Kalluto dodged his Bungee Gum, and Hisoka used the sticky substance to catch his paper shards.

Kalluto cursed. He almost fell when the ship pitched to the side.

"Illumi won't like that," Hisoka taunted.

Kalluto's brow creased. "Don't bring up my brother!"

"Why not?" Hisoka threw a few cards, knowing the kid would block them. "Don't you know we fought earlier today?" The boat rollicked under their feet, and Hisoka almost regretted wearing high heels—but no, he couldn't bother with such petty things.

"Liar!"

Hisoka grinned, running a card along his throat. His skin prickled, blood dribbling out, just a thin line, warm and red. It reminded Hisoka that he was still alive, even if his body was half nen. "How would you know? Have you spent any time with your brother since finding out you're involved in two criminal organizations together?"

Kalluto blinked. Hisoka took the opportunity to pin his arms to the stairs with Bungee Gum. Kalluto yelped. A look of panic slid through his pink eyes, before despair and defeat and hate replaced it.

 _The fuck do they teach you Zoldycks_?

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," Hisoka said. "You're too important."

"The fuck?" snapped Kalluto.

"Your brother hesitated," Hisoka said, pausing above the kid. "He hesitated to kill me."

_And I'm hesitating to kill you._

No, this was strategic.

"You're lying," Kalluto hissed.

"I'm not," Hisoka responded. "And you know it. So you do care about your brother. Well, I suppose he'll appreciate that." Illumi would probably come as close as he could to happy if he knew that. Maybe Hisoka could tell him right before Illumi killed him. "I'm sure you'll get free eventually."

He didn't even feel like punching the kid like he'd punched Gon that time. At least here, Kalluto was safer than he knew.

No one was ever safe, though. The world was made for survival of the fittest, and only parents who had use for their kids—feelings of worth through love, training assassins, setting up a legacy—mined them until their kids grew too old to let them mine them anymore. Many parents didn't even have use for them.

But there was a part of Hisoka that thought that boring and empty, entirely too predictable. Potential mattered, because he wanted to believe in—something. A grand finale, if nothing else.

Hisoka left. He wandered onto the deck, breaking through the chains on the doors, chains aimed at protecting the passengers from the lashing rain and massive waves.

_Illumi, why did you hesitate?_

_Illumi, I don't want to die by someone else's hand. At least let me choose how to go._

But why did he want to choose? Hadn't the complete chaos of life been his life blood all his years?

Hisoka clutched the rail, cold and wet. The waves still stayed below, angry as they were. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead. He didn't like this way of thinking. It was pointless.

He had to focus on what was ahead. Winning against the Phantom Troupe.

_I am not weak._

_Life is to enjoy._

_I am not weak._

He'd only ever felt weak twice, and the first time he used it to his advantage. This time, he would do the same. He'd already killed Kortopi and Shalnark. Shalnark, who was always pleasant to him, but helped kill him nonetheless. Not that Hisoka minded. Well, he understood at least.

Fine. All members of the Phantom Troupe, except the Zoldycks. Not that Hisoka was the biggest threat to them.

If Kurapika didn't come through, Kalluto would have to learn how to fight on his own. Hisoka resolved to send Bungee Gum at him regularly.  _Time to grow up, kid._


	6. A Liar's Web

The waves quieted down overnight. Kurapika woke at dawn and went outside. Warm, humid wind combed through his hair. He stared down at the inky water below, frothing as the Black Whale glided through it. His chin rested on his forearm, leaning on the rail.

He missed the days when everything was so much simpler. When he just worried about Pairo, when he wanted to explore the world. Now he was sailing to an unknown world, and instead of the daydreams he and Pairo would share as they perused the book they read and reread, it was a nightmare.

This suit was too tight. He missed his Kurta clothing. He missed seeing his eyes red without anger.

He couldn't remember the last time.

He missed seeing his eyes red and not knowing he was dying.

Even the beautiful parts of him were weapons now. Because of a man he had to work with for Oito's sake.

It was so wrong. But the Spiders probably were able to get Oito and Woble off this ship. Birds cawed above, swooping and diving, and Kurapika craned his neck to get a better look.  _What are you doing so far out here? You should be closer to land._ But he knew they were nowhere near land.

He pried himself away from the railing. His phone buzzed. Leorio.

_Sent the message. Killua was confused but he said he'd do something._

_Thank you_ , Kurapika responded. He slipped his phone back into his pocket. He had no idea what Killua could even do, but he understood wanting to protect family.

Kurapika headed back to his cabin and shut the door. He flopped onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. He needed to get to work, not lay here wishing he could sink into sleep, into dreams or into nothingness. The pillow was soft against his cheek.

A floorboard creaked. A click. The door locking. Kurapika wasn't even surprised. "You have to still be creepy, don't you?" he mumbled.

No answer.

"Hisoka?" He propped himself up. And his eyes flared.

A tiny angry man cloaked in black grabbed him by his throat, hurling him into the wall. Kurapika summoned his chains. The man whipped out an… umbrella?

"I knew it," snarled that pink-haired woman, appearing from the bathroom. "I knew he and Hisoka were working together!"

"Ask him questions," suggested the one who looked like a mummy. Behind him, the diminutive woman with a terrifying, ravenous vacuum cleaner emerged.

 _Chrollo, you called your minions on me_?

He should have known better than to let his guard down around the man even for a moment. Kurapika aimed his chains. But what would happen to Oito… especially now that he knew Chrollo's mind had changed. Unless his dowsing chain was wrong. No, it wasn't. Chrollo must have changed his mind.  _That turncoat!_

"I'm going to make sure you suffer," Feitan told him, eyes gleaming. He pulled down his scarf. "And that you tell us where Hisoka is before you die screaming."

His words reminded Kurapika of his fight with Uvogin. Kurapika glared. "I have no idea where he is."

"Don't lie." Machi approached.

Kurapika readied his chains. He yanked off his suit jacket. Bonolenov pulled off some of his wrappings. Holes gapes from his body, and the music shrieking through him as he moved was hardly pleasant like Melody's. It was haunting, and terrifying.

 _Pairo_ —

 _Oito_ —

 _Woble_ —

 _The eyes_ —

_Hisoka, I really fucking hope whatever you asked me to help with actually works so that I will have one thing I can be proud of in my goddamn life!_

He swung, and Feitan dodged easily.

* * *

"Kurapika's late," commented Oito. "He isn't usually late."

"Too bad," mumbled Nobunaga. Phinks was watching Oito feed Woble mashed carrots as it was more riveting than any fight he'd ever seen. Chrollo stretched. And then he remembered what Kurapika had revealed.

 _Hisoka_.

If he was in that room, whether plotting with Kurapika or if he'd found out Kurapika was having to work with them—he could—

"I'll go wake him," Chrollo offered. He turned on his heel, conjuring Bandit's Secret as he made his way through towards Kurapika's cabin.

A crash echoed on the inside. Chrollo blinked.  _What the fuck_? He jiggled the handle. Locked. Well, it sounded like Kurapika was putting up a fight. He really should see which enemy defeated whom.

No. Kurapika could be useful. Hisoka was a waste of air and space, and if he could finish him—Chrollo transported himself into the room.

" _Danchou!"_ cried out four voices.

" _Fuck!"_  said the fifth.

The bed had been hacked to pieces, wood and fluffy mattress scattered across the floor. Shizuku clutched a shredded arm. Bonolenov slumped against a wall, barely conscious. Machi and Feitan held Kurapika against a wall. Blood tricked from a gash in Kurapika's forehead, and Feitan had a black eye already swollen shut. Machi's sash had been cut.

"What," Chrollo began. "In the name of  _hell?"_

"Nobunaga tell us you found him," Feitan snapped. "He working with Hisoka. I heard it. He thought we were Hisoka."

"Both murderous bitches," Kurapika taunted. "It's easy to mix you up."

 _Shut up, you idiot!_ Feitan went for Kurapika's left nails. Chrollo sent Feitan flying across the room.

"Danchou?" asked Machi, lip curled in confusion. She wiped a streak of blood from her chin.

"He's—working with us," Chrollo said.

"I am not!"

 _You are literally your own worst enemy._  Well, now Chrollo was going to make it worse. Out of pure spite. "We came to an accord. He's—our newest member. Shalnark's replacement."

Kurapika's eyes bulged. They turned the most crimson Chrollo had ever seen. He opened his mouth.

"And in exchange we're helping him," Chrollo added quickly. "Save one of the queens. It's useful to have a member also be part of the Zodiacs as well, don't you think?"

Kurapika looked as if he was imagining slicing Chrollo into ribbons. Apparently he had a bone of self-preservation, though, because he didn't attack him.

"Anyways, he helped us get a position with one of the queens," Chrollo continued. "Phinks and Nobunaga and I." Speaking of Nobunaga, Chrollo would have to have A Chat with him. "And we're going to have access to Tserriednich's treasure. Also, Kurapika can locate Hisoka with his chains. It's really an equivalent exchange."

"I still hate you," Kurapika snapped. But he seemed to realize that this was Chrollo's best way to save his life. Chrollo felt pleased.

"Nobunaga did mention working together, but said there were no specific orders," Machi said.

"Well, now you have them."

"We should flip a coin," Feitain said. "See whether he gets to live or join us."

"He already has."

"I don't see a tattoo."

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. Chrollo would bet Hisoka's head the man would rather cut off his own skin a cell at a time than get a tattoo of anything. "Fine." Chrollo yanked out a coin. "Heads or tails?"

"This is a terrible method for deciding someone's life," snapped Kurapika.

_We both know you'll escape anyways._

"Tails," said Feitan.

It was heads. Fate willed it. Chrollo smiled. "I'll tell Nobunaga." A divided ship would sink, after all. They needed to work together to get off this boat alive.

Kurapika leaned back against the wall. His eyes returned to their normal color. Good.

"What," came a voice behind Chrollo, one that sent a wash of cold shooting through his veins. "Is going on? Kurapika, are you—"

"It's okay!" Kurapika interjected. He lifted a piece of mattress fluff from the collar of his ripped shirt.

Chrollo turned to see Oito gaping at them all. "What on earth?" She reached for Shizuku. "Your arm is wounded!"

"Bullet grazed me," Shizuku said. "It'll be fine."

"A  _bullet?"_ Oito turned to Kurapika. "Explain. Now."

Kurapika's face turned red. "I'll—get Leorio and Cheadle to come up and help." He limped forward.

"Actually I probably should be the one to explain," Chrollo admitted, sticking his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Can we go to your cabin, Oito?"

Five minutes later and they all filed into Oito's cabin like chagrined children. Nobunaga's eyes popped. Phinks almost laughed but stopped himself when he saw Oito's scowl. Machi helped Shizuku to a couch. Bonolenov leaned against the wall. Feitan stood in the corner, glaring at them all.

"I'm waiting," said Oito.

"We have a history," Chrollo said. "It's—not pretty for any of us. But you already know we're the Phantom Troupe and there was a miscommunication last night that seemed to put a target on Kurapika." He glowered at Nobunaga, who had the decency to look abashed, lowering his head. "It was a miscommunication. On the bright side, I will say you're in good hands if he could withstand four of them."

"How many of you are on board?" Oito asked.

"Ten. Two members—died recently." Chrollo pressed his lips together.

"How?" demanded Oito. "Or I  _will_  have you all executed. Not you, Kurapika. Take out your dowsing chain."

Kurapika obeyed. "Leorio and Cheadle are on their way."

 _Fuck_. Chrollo did not want to detail the Heaven's Arena incident. "It's not a pleasant tale." How funny, he felt more anxiety curling in his stomach when facing this young mother than he felt when fighting Hisoka in Heaven's Arena. Because he knew the outcome of the latter, and he had no concept of the outcome here. Especially when Kurapika was holding that stupid chain.

"Talk," ordered Oito.

So he explained. About Hisoka, his desire for a duel, his killing Kortopi and Shalnark. Chrollo blowing up the arena.

"I see," said Oito, gripping her knees. "I knew you were brutal, but I had no idea you were cut from the same cloth as Tserriednich, willing to do anything to win and prove that you're better than everyone else. No wonder Kurapika is so angry."

Phinks blanched. Acid burned Chrollo's throat. He wouldn't have thought being chastised by some privileged queen would matter.

"Not that he's any better," Oito continued. Kurapika flinched. Chrollo smirked. Oito rose when Woble cried out. Feitan's nose wrinkled as the baby reached out for Machi. Machi looked terrified. She patted the baby on the head.

"I used to think I was above," said Oito. "I was raised with so many siblings. My brother beat me, told me I was nothing, and then Nasubi chose me, and I thought—there must be something great about me." Her voice choked up. "There wasn't. But I love Woble. And if you want to get off this ship alive, help me take Woble to safety, and I won't turn you in. I'd do anything for her. I'd sell my soul to the devil. She's the only good thing in my life. The only person I have ever loved."

Kurapika looked as if he was planning a snarky comment on how Chrollo was basically the devil, but thought better of it.

"You won't have to," said Chrollo. "We still will help."

"Queen," said Phinks. "Your Highness. Your Majesty—I don't know—I apologize." His shoulders slumped.

A knock sounded on the door. "That'll be Leorio and Cheadle." Kurapika moved to answer it.

"What happened?" yelped a familiar voice. Oh right, the driver from his kidnapping. Chrollo folded his arms.

"I'm fine, Leorio," Kurapika mumbled, lowered his face.

Oito was studying Phinks. She nodded. "What will the rest of you do?"

"Go back to work finding Hisoka," Machi said, blowing her hair off her face.

"Are you really acting as bodyguards now?" Feitan wanted to know.

Kurapika yanked out his dowsing chain again. Chrollo exhaled. "I am."

"Yes," Phinks said eagerly.

"Yes," mumbled Nobunaga. "But that doesn't mean I forgive you, Chain Bastard."

Kurapika studied him, jaw tight. "The same for me, I suppose." He turned.

"If you need our assistance getting off the ship, and Danchou asks," said Machi to Oito. "We will help."

Oito smiled. Chrollo slipped outside after Kurapika. The sun was murderous, as if the fact that it had to yield to clouds the day before had pissed it off enough to resort to overkill. Chrollo squinted.

"I hope you know I would rather die than join your filthy troupe," Kurapika said, pausing at the railing. He gripped it so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I would rather the coin have been tails."

"It's just a lie," said Chrollo.

"Do you even think truth exists?" Kurapika craned his neck back.

"I don't know. Perhaps. To each person. You hate me. That's true. I don't doubt that." Chrollo watched some porpoises splash in the water below.

"Look," Kurapika said, pointing. "How cute." A smile crossed his lips. A genuine one, without something simmering behind it. Uncalculated.

 _Huh_.

"You know, when they showed up in my cabin, I thought you'd sent them."

Chrollo scowled. "Well, I didn't. And I won't." He paused. Another opportunity to poke at the Chain Bastard. He couldn't pass it up. "Are you saying I'm better than you in that, then? In trusting people to keep their word—"

"How'd that work out for you with Hisoka?" Kurapika interrupted. "You trusted him when he pretended to be a member of your troupe and you trusted yourself to finish him. I have no regrets about not trusting you."

"I trusted my troupe," Chrollo corrected. "That's why I borrowed their powers."

Kurapika laughed, bitterness back and cracking through the air. "Not true, Chrollo. You borrowed them to prove yourself worthy. To prove that you could use all their powers. You did it because you keep trying to see them as just their powers."

"That's not true," Chrollo snapped.

"You judge me for shaving hours off my life," said Kurapika, looking back down at the water. The dolphins were gone, swimming below the waves. "But you shave members,  _legs_ , off with each kill you make on your own whims. Uvogin, because you wanted beautiful eyes. Pakunoda. Shalnark. Kortopi. Even Hisoka, because you used your powers to establish how strong you were and eventually the wrong person came calling. You really can't bear to see yourself as someone someone would want to betray, can you?"

"I don't believe betrayal exists. They always have their reasons—"

"Liar," said Kurapika again. "You kill because you're too lazy to think of another option or to think of anyone but yourself."

"And you?" Chrollo demanded. "When you killed Uvogin? Spare me the sanctimony, Kurapika. You put yourself and your pain above not just me and my friends, but your own life, and your friends' lives too."

Kurapika's jaw dropped. He turned to storm off.

Chrollo gritted his teeth. Working with the Chain Bastard was going to take every ounce of patience Chrollo possessed.

* * *

"Kalluto?" Illumi lifted his head as his brother staggered into their shared cabin. Illumi  _should_  be searching the ship; instead he was lying here staring at the ceiling and tossing needles at it, catching them before they fell and hit his face.

"It's morning; were you here all night?" Kalluto snapped. He was limping.

"What happened?" Illumi jolted up.

"I'm fine, no thanks to you!" Kalluto shoved Illumi when he came close.

Illumi stumbled back. He didn't understand. "Kalluto—"

"You hesitated! Hisoka told me!" Kalluto aimed his fingers at him. "He used his Bungee Gum to pin me to the staircase and then told me about you sparing his life so he spared my life and it's all your fault!"

 _Hisoka went after Kalluto?_ Fury surged.

"You're a traitor!" Kalluto yelled.

Illumi blinked. "Kalluto, that's—"

"You are! Otherwise you wouldn't have hesitated! You don't know whether you'd choose the Spiders or Hisoka!"

"I'd choose the Zoldycks," Illumi answered immediately.

Kalluto stomped his foot. "Not an option! If you'd killed him, then—"

"Hisoka hired me to kill him, so I will."

"But you hesitated! I bet Dad will be real happy to hear that one," taunted Kalluto. "Ruining the Zoldyck family name, you are."

"There's no need to talk like that," Illumi responded. His breath hitched. A chill ran down his spine.

He wasn't. He wasn't. Kalluto was just—Kalluto—

Kalluto turned and stormed out of the cabin.

"Where are you going?" Illumi called. He wheeled into the hallway. Kalluto was gone.

 _Blast_. Illumi rubbed his temples. He slammed the door to his cabin. Long ago he'd learned not to slam doors, but to shut them with barely a whisper, so as to attract the least amount of attention possible. He learned how to breathe through electric shocks so his screams wouldn't make anyone happy and keep running through poison wracking his stomach. He forgot how to cry.

And yet, his brothers were proving to be harder than any of that. Kalluto hated him. Alluka was just a thing, according to his father. Killua…

He needed Killua. Without Killua, he didn't know how to keep going. Once he got control of Alluka he would control Killua, and to focus on that, he had to cut off distractions. Like Hisoka.

" _Sooner or later any friend you make will betray you, Illumi," Dad told him at seven years old, fingers cupping Illumi's chin. "Or you will betray them."_

Illumi told Killua the same thing, but Killua wasn't listening. And Illumi remembered blood staining his hands.

_Do it or don't come home._

Heaven's Arena was where he made friends, except then he had to fight them, and he killed them, and his father's warning echoed and echoed.

Maybe he shouldn't try so hard to protect his siblings. But it wasn't a fun feeling. Illumi huddled on his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest.

His father was right. Everyone betrayed him in the end, or he betrayed them. Except family. Except family. They were there for him.

But Kalluto—Killua—

He remembered holding Killua because he was his. A few years later, Milluki took to Kalluto and Alluka, claiming they were his, since Killua was Illumi's. But he'd failed. Illumi hadn't. Had he?

From the moment Dad put Killua in Illumi's arms, downy tufts of white hair on the baby's head and told him that the baby looked like him, as if Illumi couldn't see. Pride tinged his father's tone, and Illumi wanted to hear it again.

He wanted to hear it ring with pride for himself.

_No!_

" _Let me train him," Illumi insisted_. And Killua became more his child than anyone else's. He poisoned his brother. He watched Dad electrocute him, assured him that he had been through the same thing, that he would grow strong, that it wouldn't hurt very long, but Illumi was the one Killua turned to when he was having nightmares at four years old. And Illumi liked that. He liked Killua knowing that he wasn't alone, that Illumi was there to help him.

But Killua had forgotten. Illumi bit his lip so hard it bled. He spat out a wad of pink phlegm.

 _We both know how this ends,_  Hisoka had said.

_Don't hesitate._

He asked Illumi to kill him, and as Illumi curled his fist, he thought how it felt like a betrayal.


	7. A Name, or a Person

Illumi cussed as he perused the hallways. He couldn't find Hisoka. He couldn't find Kalluto. He was a total failure.

And failure was not an option.

_"Get back up," Father told him, grasping Illumi's jaw in his hand. "Are you a Zoldyck or aren't you? Are you my son or aren't you? If you aren, then you'll do what had to be done."_

Illumi was four and never closed his eyes when killing someone again. It was always killing. That was their way of life, their business, and even here, it followed him, which really wasn't surprising because everywhere people died, everywhere people wanted to live, to die themselves, or wanted other people to die for as many reasons as there were people. Illumi heard rumors swirling throughout the ship. Rumors of more people dead, slaughtered by Morena Prudo and her minions, he reasoned.

He had to kill Hisoka, get Kalluto, and leave. He had long ago resolved never to pick a battle he couldn't win. The rest of the troupe could die, he supposed. But if they wanted to come and it was feasible, he'd allow that.

A scream echoed. Illumi whirled. He flew down the stairs and paused among a crowd. A dead body lay crumpled on the floor like a disgusting caterpillar, missing its throat. Really a rather inefficient and gruesome way to kill. Which only had one purpose: inciting fear. Not Hisoka's game no matter how he loved chaos. Morena, again. He spotted her among the crowd. She met his gaze, and slipped away.

Illumi followed. He reached out and snatched her shoulder.

"What is it, Zoldyck?" Morena glanced at him, her eyes scarred.

"Do you want to kill everyone on this boat, or have everyone kill each other?" Illumi demanded. He could hear the arguing erupting already, with some calling for each cabin to be searched individually, some calling for—

"Answer a question for me and I'll answer one for you," Morena responded. She adjusted what looked like a crown of thorns on her head. "Do you think all the pain your parents put you through was love? We heard rumors, you know. Even in Kakin. Was it love because you had a nice mansion and a guard dog?"

Illumi felt cold. "Of course it was." His parents only wanted him to be the very best he could be. If that wasn't love, what even was it?

Morena tapped her scars. "These weren't love." A smile twisted her lips. "Love doesn't exist."

 _Your father threw you away._ Illumi narrowed his gaze. How dare she try to compare—

"If you were useless," Morena said. "You'd be fed to that dog, wouldn't you?" She turned and stalked off.

"Hey!" Illumi sucked in his breath. She wasn't going to answer his question, which meant he would need to find his own answers. And it wasn't true.

_Are you a Zoldyck or aren't you?_

He killed the person with his eyes wide open, and Father didn't so much as give him a nod of approval. He told Illumi he spilled too much blood, though. Illumi studied his hand.

The third tier was getting dangerous, certainly. He tapped his chin. He didn't want to have to worry about Kalluto with all that was going on. He was a Zoldyck, and a Zoldyck protected their younger siblings. _I'll track down the actual killer, then, and get my answers_. It shouldn't take him very long.

And it didn't. Within two hours, Illumi had an overweight man, red in the face and with ill-concealed bloodstains on his belt, trapped in a storage room.

"Hello," Illumi said pleasantly, shutting the door behind them. He sent a needle at the man. Now he would—

The man caught it. Just like Morena had. Illumi blinked. "You—"

He lunged at Illumi, with a strength he shouldn't possess. Illumi dodged. And then the man fell flat on his face. Illumi swore. He yanked the man up by his thinning hair, stabbing a needle into his throat. "What is your plan?"

"We have the same question," said a voice behind Illumi. He turned to see Machi swinging herself out from behind a crate, the diminutive one Kalluto seemed to admire popping up behind her. Feitan.

"I make him talk," Feitan said as the man thrashed like a fish out of water. He withdrew a tiny knife.

 _I don't need your help!_ Illumi was offended. "What are you doing here?"

"I just tripped him," Machi said, holding up her nen thread.

"Civilians are worth one level," the man finally said. "Nen users, ten. Princes… fifty."

"Levels?" Illumi glared.

"I'm only ten," mumbled Feitan.

"Destroy everything," the man warbled. "Because—just because. We can. Nothing matters—your life, my life—any life—"

His family mattered. Fuck this nihilistic fool. And what a disappointing answer. Nihilism.

Illumi sent another needle into his brain. Dead. Efficient. He hadn't needed these two.

"Chrollo, Nobunaga, and Phinks are acting as a bodyguard for one of the princes," Machi said. "I'll text them."

"I don't even want to know," Illumi decided. "And does it matter? We get Hisoka, and then we leave."

"Ah, do we?" Feitan eyed Illumi. "Your brother ask us to watch you."

 _Kalluto_ _—what?_ Illumi laughed, but the looks on Feitan's and Machi's face crushed the sound. They were serious. _Kalluto, why?_

_Everyone betrays you, or you will betray them._

Except family.

Including family.

Illumi wanted to scream. His breaths echoed in the dim room, harsh, sloshing around. "I have never failed a job in my life."

_I'm a Zoldyck. I'm a Zoldyck. I'm a ZoldyckZoldyckZoldyck the only ones I can rely on is family always family love they're here._

"I know," said Machi. "See that this isn't the first. My life depends on it." She put her hands on her hips.

"Besides," said Feitan. "These fools, we can practice with. Killing them." He gestured to the crumpled body on the floor.

"I could have handled him just fine on my own," Illumi said finally. Irritation was not present in his tone. He kept it all inside, swelling, itching.

"Probably," agreed Machi. "But we don't know that, do we?"

"I thought members trusted each other."

"We do."

"Except Hisoka," Illumi said. "Fine. I understand."

"He was no member." Feitan jabbed his finger at Illumi. "Time tells whether you are a member or not."

"If someone is in trouble, do you help them? Or just Chrollo?" asked Illumi, thinking of Shalnark and Kortopi. He perched on the edge of a crate.

"Those who can't help themselves can die," replied Feitan.

Shadows covered Machi's face. "We help when we need them."

"Then why," asked Illumi. "Are you so angry at Hisoka? Would not Shalnark and Kortopi deserve to die, if they were so weak for lending their powers to Chrollo?"

Feitan glared at him.

 _Hisoka's only using your own philosophy on you,_ Illumi realized. _How trickster-like_. "Did you not save Chrollo when the Chain User kidnapped him?"

Feitan and Machi exchanged a glance. Machi folded her arms. "Yes. Because we needed him."

"I said not to," said Feitan. "But what's done is done."

"Why not?" Illumi wanted to know. _Give me answers, dammit! I don't_ _—I need to_ —

"Following what Danchou wanted shows that we are his legs," responded Feitan. "He want his legacy to continue. The Spider needs to survive."

"Saving him showed that we care," Machi shot back.

Feitan shrugged and rolled his eyes. "This is why we don't debate finished things."

Illumi had heard enough. He pushed past them. "Don't worry," he said. "I am a Zoldyck. I am an assassin." He slipped out of the room.

_Kalluto, why?_

He was only doing the right thing for Killua, Kalluto, all of them. And Hisoka…

 _Following what he wants shows that we care_. Illumi pushed open the door to his room.

"Hello," said Hisoka, shuffling cards on his bed.

Illumi produced his needles. "You went after my brother."

"Spared the little brat, but yes," Hisoka agreed. "And my, my, Illumi, darling. You don't seem to be doing a great job of watching over him. Maybe you should take care of his friends since they're certainly more a risk than Gon ever was." Hisoka pushed himself up to a sitting position. He tossed a card into the ceiling.

Illumi sent a needle through the card. "What are you talking about?"

"He's made a friend aboard," Hisoka said, scowling at the ruined card. "A short, bald man. Goes by Cathuria." He tilted his head back. "Since it seems no one respects friendship anymore, I thought you might want to intervene and respect family bonds."

Sweat prickled at the back of Illumi's neck. "I don't understand."

Hisoka turned his face away from Illumi. "Who did you just kill?"

Illumi leaned back against the wall. He felt his heart rate increasing and he didn't like it. The last time he felt like this he was a child of five and Dad had caught him huddled into Mike's fur. He was supposed to be awake for seventy-two hours to train, and he was at hour sixty and just wanted to close his eyes. The dog was comfortable. Illumi wasn't able to sit for a week after that. "Are you a bastard, Hisoka?"

Hisoka let out a laugh. He folded one of his legs, tucking his foot under his knee. "No idea."

"Do you know what happens to the Kakin king's bastards?" Illumi asked. "He scars their faces and abandons them. One of them wants to kill everyone on the ship, because she can."

"Is she powerful?" asked Hisoka. "Maybe I'll—"

Illumi hurled needles at him. Hisoka blocked them with cards. He swung. Illumi had to do it. He had to. Here and now. He was a Zoldyck. He was an assassin. He was a Phantom Troupe member because he was a Zoldyck and an assassin and because he and Hisoka had made an engagement for— _I'm a Zoldyck, Father I'm your son, Father I'm enough, no matter what, Mother, I'm cold enough—_

He wasn't letting his guard down today. No Bungee Gum would stick to him. He found himself on the floor, Hisoka pinned under him, grimacing, straining.

_I'm enough._

"I win," said Illumi, hair cloaking their faces. Despite the shadows, he could still see the golden glint in Hisoka's eyes.

Hisoka let out a laugh. The sound overpowered the mantra chanting in Illumi's mind. "Go ahead."

Illumi aimed the needle at his head. He pressed the tip into Hisoka's forehead.

His heartbeat thumped. He was alive. Hisoka was about to be dead.

"Don't hesitate again, _Zoldyck_ ," Hisoka snarled. The name sounded lilting, teasing, from Hisoka's tongue. "Or I won't be so nice next time."

Blood dribbled down Hisoka's forehead, just a droplet. Hisoka glared, annoyed Illumi was making it painful. Illumi's fingers tightened around the needle. He heard his father's voice. Keep his eyes open. He watched Hisoka's lips curve up. In a second, they would be frozen. The skin was warm.

 _Following what he wants_ —

 _Everyone will betray you_ —

"Do it," Hisoka said. " _Do it!"_

 _Shows we care_ —

_I'm a Zoldyck, I'm a Zoldyck, I'm—_

"Illumi," cursed Hisoka.

 _Or you will betray them_ —

_Zol—trait—you—every—_

_It's true,_ Illumi thought, giving in. _You were right, Father._

He was the traitor, this time. He would betray Hisoka.

He threw the needle into the wall. Illumi gaped at it just as much as Hisoka did. But he couldn't think. Not now. Illumi leaned down and pressed his lips against Hisoka's, opening his mouth with his. His lips felt hot against Illumi's. His teeth knocked against Hisoka's. Illumi pressed deeper. He wanted to forget, to lose himself in something else, someone else. A pulse pounded in Hisoka's throat.

Hisoka threw Illumi off him. Illumi staggered back. _So you_ _—could have thrown me off earlier._

_But you didn't want to. You want to die so badly?_

Hisoka wiped his mouth. "You're really—" He couldn't finished.

Illumi just stared at him. His legs felt weak.

Hisoka opened his mouth as if to say something else, and then shook his head. He turned and stormed from the cabin.

* * *

Kurapika meandered towards Prince Tserriednich's chambers. He needed to focus at least a little on getting the eyes, even if protecting Oito and Woble was his primary goal.

 _I shouldn't be alive_.

He should have died long ago, with his family, with his tribe. He should be a rotting skeleton by now instead of something still wasting air and time.

No, not wasting. So long as he could bury them, it was good he survived. Kurapika's hands shook. He put his hand on the gun tucked in the waistband of his pants.

He only survived because he was a coward who wanted to leave. And who wanted to save his friend whom he lost. _Maybe… maybe…_

"Find me some better looking ones from down below," called a thick voice. Kurapika froze, pressing himself into the wall of the passageway. "No one will miss them; they're basically worthless cattle anyways. I heard rumors some of the rats have already started chewing each other apart. Some serial killers."

Kurapika gritted his teeth. He hated people like Tserriednich. Hated entitled brats who thought that some people's lives were worth less just because they happened to be born with less money, just because they weren't _them._

 _Are you really so special? Are you really such a complete and total_ —

Footsteps sounded. Kurapika hesitated, and then dated sideways down the passage. A lamp glowed, but the hallway still seemed dark.

He paused outside a compartment. The footsteps still clicked and clacked, like heels. Kurapika jiggled the handle. Locked.

It had to be here, then. The eyes. The treasure. But where were the guards, if so? Kurapika frowned. He crouched, examining the lock. The footsteps sounded in a different direction.

Something cold washed over him. Sticky. Like an aura, but worse than anything Kurapika could even imagine. His throat felt coated in slime and he gagged, desperate for air, but he couldn't—he clawed at his throat, head slamming into the door.

_This is whatever attacked Chrollo and me._

This time, Chrollo wasn't here. This time, he didn't have Bandit's Secret. Kurapika yanked out his chains. He activated Emperor Time, pushing himself to his feet. His head felt light. Every skin cell felt as if it had been injected with lead, as if it was being tugged towards the floor. The air coagulated inside his lungs.

A head emerged from the wall. Kurapika's jaw felt wired in place. He couldn't even scream as the creature wiggled out.

 _Tserriednich's guardian spirit beast_. Huge breasts dangled from it, almost giving it an obscene appearance. It raised its head, attached to a snake-like neck, slithering it closer to Kurapika. Its forehead almost touched his own. Two fat legs, trapped in high heels that even Hisoka would condemn, moved towards him. A claw extended from the front, reaching for Kurapika's throat.

 _Move!_ Kurapika commanded himself. But only one foot stepped backwards, and only slightly. He felt like running through sand.

How on earth was anyone to have a chance against this thing? _Woble, where's your spirit beast and why isn't it useful?_

Its mouth opened. Another, more hideous face, leered at Kurapika.

A whistle cut through the air. The beast retracted its neck, sinking back into the wall, into the locked chamber. Air whooshed back into Kurapika's lungs, air that felt clean, crisp, life-giving. He clutched his knees, chains disappearing.

"Tserriednich," called a voice.

Kurapika jerked his head up. Theta stared at him. _Fuck_. His fingers grappled for his weapon. But if he were to use it, that beast…

The prince's blasted face appeared around the corner. Kurapika nodded at him. "Prince Tserriednich."

Tserriednich crossed his arms. "What are you doing here?"

"Queen Oito wished to talk to Nasubi," Kurapika lied. "I was on my way there."

"I see." Tserriednich tugged his hair back from his face. "It sounded as if you were in a bit of distress."

Dammit, they must have heard him gasping for breath. Kurapika straightened his shoulders. "Your nen beast appeared to have thought me a threat."

Tserriednich's eyes glittered. "And _are_ you a threat?"

"Not at the moment," Kurapika answered honestly. His heart hammered inside his chest.

Tserriednich chuckled. "Indeed, I suppose that's an honest answer." He had his feet planted on the edges of the narrow hallway.

 _Oh, gross_. Kurapika's stomach churned. His phone rang. He ignored it as per usual, though for once not because he wanted to. In fact, if Kurapika could have answered it and demanded help, he would have.

But no. He snuck off here by himself, so he would deal with the consequences.

"Theta, after you find some girls for me, call Cathuria," Tserriednich directed.

"Yes, sir," Theta said quietly. She slipped past Kurapika.

"My father is that way," Tserriednich said, stepping aside.

Thank goodness. Kurapika let out his breath. "Thank you. Have a good evening."

"You know," Tserriednich said as Kurapika moved past him. "If you wanted to stay, you could. You're no woman, but you look like one. I'd be curious to see just how strong you are, Nen Teacher, in other senses." His hand landed on Kurapika's shoulder, squeezing.

Now Kurapika really might vomit all over Tserriednich's shoes. "I'm afraid I decline."

"Shame." Tserriednich pulled his hand back. "We might be able to work out an accord, you know. For the other prince's benefit."

Kurapika spun on his heel. "Are you actually suggesting I prostitute myself for your sister's life? You're a sick man." He wished he could send his foot into Tserriednich's crotch, watch the man writhe in pain.

Tserriednich leaned back against the wall. "And you're the one choosing yourself over her life."

 _Fuck you!_ Kurapika glowered at him. "I've chosen to save her life. And I will. And I will do it with my dignity in tact, thank you very much."

"Oh, will you?" He was enjoying taunting him.

 _"Kurapika!"_ A new voice rang out.

Kurapika wanted to scream. _Why you_?

Chrollo appeared. Tserriednich's eyes lit up even further.

"Oito summoned you," said Chrollo. "It's urgent." He bowed, but not before Kurapika saw the mocking gleam in his eyes. "Your Majesty."

"See you," Tserriednich relented.

Kurapika hurried after Chrollo. "You know, there is one person I hate in this world more than you, and that's him."

"He didn't seem particularly pleasant," Chrollo agreed.

"What does Oito need?"

"Nothing. You weren't picking up your phone and it didn't take a genius to assume that you'd be looking for eyes. I wanted to ask if you could cover for me tonight. I need to meet with Machi and Feitan."

"No."

"Two-faced scheming—"

"The nen beast," Kurapika interrupted. "The one that locked us in that room. The one with the—that almost suffocated us."

"The what?" Chrollo turned to gape at him as they emerged onto the deck.

"It's Tserriednich's nen spirit guardian."

"This family is too wild for me," Chrollo declared.

"It's dangerous," Kurapika said. He spun to face Chrollo, halting. "If he—if he decides to target us, we can't—we're through."

Chrollo paled. He gave a nod. "I suppose we better hurry up and kill Hisoka, then, and get you off."

"He's evil," Kurapika said. The setting sun glowed orange against Chrollo's skin. "He takes women every night—they're never seen again, more often than not. Oito's seen it."

Chrollo scowled. "Lecherous scum."

"Pretty much," Kurapika agreed. "He said if I slept with him he'd spare Woble."

Chrollo arched his brows. A chuckle emerged. "What did you say?"

Kurapika's jaw dropped. " _No_! What kind of person do you think I am?"

"A murderer who will do anything to achieve your goals," Chrollo responded. A bird cawed above them, swooping and diving, but all alone. Golden clouds disintegrated, resembling decaying mackerel skin. "Including saving those you care about, so I'm actually surprised. If he asked you to in exchange for the eyes, would your answer have been different? Then you wouldn't have to steal them."

"No," said Kurapika. "And it has nothing to do with me being—"

"Frigid?"

"It has nothing to do with me!"

"Liar."

"It's the truth." Kurapika glanced at him. "I could not imagine being with someone I hated. Not when other options exist. I have choices. In everything."

The sky darkened, indigo blossoming. "Were there no other options besides killing Uvogin, then?"

Kurapika started. "He had a choice. Reveal where you were, and then—"

"Would you have killed him anyways?"

"It was what it was," Kurapika responded.

And he felt it again. That gnawing emptiness. Kurapika clenched his fists. He grappled to grab rage.

It wasn't there. Just—nothingness, as vast as the sea. He swallowed. "If I had a choice, so did you. If you want to see me regret it, then so should you."

"What were you thinking?" Chrollo asked. "When you did it." He faced the ocean too. And a teardrop rolled down his cheek.

He could cry? It had to be an act. But the hollow look in Chrollo's eyes—it was a mirror. Kurapika closed his eyes. "I was angry. I thought—I would feel better."

"I thought having the eyes would make me feel better. They're beautiful."

"And did you?" Kurapika already knew the answer.

"I've never slowed enough to ask myself," Chrollo responded.

"Ask yourself now." Kurapika restrained himself from adding a curse to the end of that sentence. He opened his eyes.

"No," said Chrollo. "It wasn't worth it. I'd rather have Uvo and Paku alive. They were like—a big brother and a big sister. I met Uvo when I was nine, or maybe ten, you know? He stopped a group of people from attacking me. We didn't talk for a few more years after that, but he just said it wasn't funny." He leaned over the railing, resting his chin on his folded hands.

"If I said I was sorry, they'd still be dead."

" _Are_ you sorry?" Chrollo turned to him. Umber hair flew around his face.

"I don't know." If he was, he'd have to rethink his goals. And he was scared to shift that foundation. "I think so. It's just—" He stopped.

"I understand." Chrollo looked out at the water, where sunlight glimmered red on the waves, in scarlet shards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: plot actually starts moving.


	8. Cathuria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reading reference purposes, I wanna say that the title of this fic is taken from Lovecraft's short story "The White Ship," and Cathuria is the Land of Hope there. It's a horror story though so. Yeah. Wikipedia has a decent summary of what happens in it.

_I couldn't kill him._

And he didn't even want to.

Illumi couldn't bring himself to go back to his cabin. He didn't want to face Kalluto. He didn't want to imagine facing his father.

Hisoka was not family. He should not be acting like this.

_We're engaged; that's practically family._

_It's a death contract!_

At least if Hisoka had killed him, he wouldn't have to live with this crippling humiliation. A weakness. How strange. Father, Mother, Grandfather—they had all beaten the weaknesses out of him, flushed them out with toxins and torture. He remembered his head being held underwater, Father's hand gripping the back of his neck, the way his nostrils burned and his lung threatened to combust if he didn't fucking  _breathe_. He could hold his breath up to seven minutes now.

Illumi supposed he knew how Hisoka felt, now, after his defeat by Chrollo.  _When this is your entire life, your entire purpose for breathing, what else is there?_

No. He was not Hisoka. He still had his family. His brothers. Even if Kalluto was being a little bitch.

And there was something he could do about that right now. Illumi set his sights on finding that man.  _Cathuria_ , the one Hisoka said was not a good friend. If Hisoka expressed concern, that was reason enough for Illumi to hate him. At least he could still prove he was good at killing.

He found Cathuria standing at the edge of the railing. "Hello, Illumi."

 _How do you know my name?_  He'd have to talk to Kalluto. No giving out unnecessary information.

"Did your clown friend ask you to find me?"

Illumi said nothing. The sky was a brilliant blue today, too blue. It matched the ocean.

"I'd be careful of listening too much to him." Cathuria turned around. He was around Killua's height, but his face was lined with years and years of misery and malice. Illumi had seen it so many times. Regret, and spite, in the moment of death.

"Kalluto does not need distractions," Illumi said. "He is here for a job."

"He's not here to be a Zoldyck, if that's what you mean." Cathuria hung onto the rail, tilting backwards to smirk at him. "Tell me, Illumi, if he were to choose between the Phantom Troupe and the Zoldycks, which would he choose? I daresay he's made his choice already. If he were going to choose you, he would have."

"Shut up," said Illumi. "Or I'll pitch your body into the sea. That isn't true. Blood cannot be changed."

"Unless you displease the arbitrators for arbitrary reasons," replied Cathura. The wind whipped Illumi's hair in front of him. He tucked it behind his ears, but it was too long to cooperate. "Like Alluka? Your fourth brother. Don't they define him by his abilities? Don't they do that to all of you? His are just messy. I'd be careful to clean up your mess here, Illumi, before Kalluto becomes another mess."

"If you threaten my brother again, I will shatter your skull." The scent of salt disgusting Illumi. His hands shook. "I love my brothers. Alluka is not—"

"Blood cannot be changed." Cathuria's lips curved, a smile caving his face into a horrific spider web of ridged skin.

"That's different. Father—"

"You are too much like him, you know. That's why you're doomed." Cathuria waved his hand. And then a black door appeared behind him, hovering in the air.

_What the fuck?_

"I daresay we'll chat later." Cathuria tipped his chin at Illumi. He stepped through the door.

Illumi hurled needles at it, but it was gone, vanished into thin air. He gulped.

Hisoka—he needed to talk to Hisoka.

* * *

"Reconsidered?" Hisoka asked when the door to his room flung open. Kicked open, but Hisoka hadn't even bothered to lock it. Not that Illumi cared, judging by the pissy look on his face. Whenever Illumi let his mask dissolve just a little—like now, with the slight flare to his nose, the clench in his jaw, the thinning of his lips—it turned Hisoka on.

"How does Cathuria know me?"

 _Fuck._ Hisoka sat up slowly. He did not want to talk about that man. There was no better way to kill his boner.

"He told me not to trust you."

"If you really needed him to tell you that, it's hopeless for you Illumi. Pack up and go home."

"But I do." Illumi dropped down onto the bed next to him. "He disappeared. Behind a black door. But not before he revealed things he should not have known—"

"I imagine Kalluto told him. He is perceptive, but he can't read minds."

Illumi leveled his gaze at Hisoka. "Who is he to you?"

"Genuinely just an asshole and someone I'm not interested in fighting."

"You don't usually remember those people, though," Illumi pointed out. "You usually kill them."

Hisoka gritted his teeth. "Do you recall any of the people you kill, Illumi?"

Illumi looked up at the ceiling. His hair cascaded down his back. Hisoka liked that. "They all blur together." He glanced around the room. "Do you remember who had this room?"

"I genuinely didn't ever meet them nor kill them. One of Prudo's serial killers did it for me." Hisoka sighed. "I wish they'd come back. I could make quick work of them."

"Don't be so sure." Illumi turned to him.

Hisoka arched an eyebrow. "I almost beat Chrollo."

" _Almost_ ," taunted Illumi. "You still lost."

Heat coiled in Hisoka's abdomen. He held up a card.

"Why do you want to die so badly?" asked Illumi.

"I don't." Hisoka leaned forward. "I want to live."

"Could have fooled me." Illumi tilted his head to the side, eyes dull again.

Hisoka gripped Illumi's shoulders. "To live, I have to feel. To feel, I have to fight." Life had been about survival for him at the beginning. Grasping the pleasures he could. And once he found some things he could enjoy, something to send his senses tingling, he would do anything for it, to convince himself he was alive. And Illumi—Illumi was a dead doll to most people, except when his family was concerned. But Hisoka knew it was in there, deep down.  _You're alive, too_.

"That's stupid," said Illumi.

The day they finally had sex, Hisoka felt it bubbling inside of Illumi. Passion, and something other than emptiness. He tilted Illumi's chin up and bit his lip.

_Alive, or dead?_

_Do you want me alive? You will only get that before I die._

_Except now. A hint._

_I want to be fully alive for you, and if I have to die for that, then_ —

Illumi opened Hisoka's mouth with his own. His hands dug into Hisoka's hair, pulling it down from its coiffed prison. And then his fingers meandered down to Hisoka's face, massaging. Hisoka realized what he was doing and pulled back.

Makeup smeared Illumi's fingertips. He'd rubbed the star and teardrop off. Hisoka scowled. "That's a turn off."

Illumi leaned in and kissed him where the makeup used to be.  _Fuck_. This was too soft and now Hisoka was a liar, but like that was anything new. Hisoka flipped Illumi over. Illumi tugged at Hisoka's shirt, yanking it over his head. Hisoka savored Illumi's abs.

_This is_ _—all I was ever going to get out of life._

_All there is to get._ Simple pleasures. A hand on his arm, made of Bungee Gum and Texture Surprise, but the hand still warm. Another hand pulling his pants down. Lips on his throat, a tongue against his pulse. Someone arching up to meet him—not just someone. Illumi. Eyes that suddenly widened, alive and sparking, a mouth that went from a flat line to a circle, breath that bathed Hisoka's face.

Illumi, who never let an ounce of control slip from every muscle in his body, gasping and quivering. Hisoka, control completely fleeing his own body.

_I knew from the moment I met you, didn't I?_

_It would be you._

The waves of ecstasy, of life, flowed out of him. Hisoka rested his head in the crook between Illumi's shoulder and neck. His skin was damp. His chest rose and fell.

"Why did you ask me to do it?" Illumi whispered.

"Don't disrupt me, Illumi," Hisoka mumbled. He wanted to—rest. Here. He wasn't doing anything besides breathing, and he didn't want to be.

"If I said I didn't want to, what would you think?"

Hisoka lifted his face. "I already paid you."

Illumi licked his lips. "Is everything for sale?"

"I don't know. You tell me. You're the assassin." Hisoka felt something biting into his neck. He remembered falling, plummeting towards that explosion. He remembered his last desperate actions, the only thing he ever had to rely on. Bungee Gum. His strength. His nen.

"Not family," Illumi said.

Hisoka rolled his eyes. He propped himself up on his elbow.

Illumi looked away. He swallowed. "If I refuse to do it, do you still want to die?"

"I told you my answer to that already."

Illumi rose. He shoved his legs through his pants, slipped his shirt over his head. Hisoka still lay there. It was fading, that feeling. Breathing was becoming just another part of him again.

No one ever asked to be born, but most know they were born because they were wanted, or because of a mistake, and Hisoka had no idea and he didn't care. He was here. He only thought about that. Except, he wondered. That kind of chain couldn't be good for Illumi, a purpose attached to him from birth.

"You have my money regardless," said Hisoka. "That's not changing."

Illumi paused at the door. He looked back at him, his eyes somber. An emotion. Hisoka pushed himself up.

He wanted it to be Illumi because he wanted to see Illumi's true strength.

This was not what he'd counted on. It wasn't weakness, though. Hisoka's throat felt parched.

Illumi let himself out.

* * *

Kurapika hoisted Woble on his hip, checking to see who was calling. Nobunaga glowered at him from across the room. Phinks was busy flirting with Oito and Chrollo was out, scouring the ship for Hisoka.  _Leorio?_

"Hello?"

"Oh my goodness," said Leorio. "You actually answered. It's a miracle."

Kurapika snorted. Woble reached for the phone and he held it out of her reach. She had a recent habit of putting everything she could grasp into her mouth. His hair was the next victim, in place of the phone. "What's going on?"

"I think you should come down to the medical bay and see for yourself," Leorio answered. He hung up.

 _Excuse me?_ Kurapika gaped.

His gaze darted across the room to Nobunaga, who looked as if he'd been sentenced to seven years of hard labor for having to agree to help Kurapika out. "Fine." He reached out for the baby.

Woble giggled, tugging at his hair. Nobunaga's face broke into a smile, and he started babbling to Woble in baby talk. Kurapika snorted. It was almost cute. Except…

_Where does that leave me?_

_I don't fear death. I only fear my rage will fade over time_.

If he didn't have that…

 _You can focus on your real goal!_ Gon had said that day in the park, beaming. He thought Chrollo was dead at the time.

 _The eyes_.

Although with Prince Tserriednich… Kurapika shuddered. Well, if he had to suffer the Phantom Troupe's presence, he could definitely ask them for a favor. Chrollo, at the least, seemed perhaps the most reasonable, though that was certainly ironic.

Kurapika pushed open the med bay doors. Cheadle waved at him, munching on an apple as she studied paperwork.

" _Kurapika!"_

" _Kurapika!"_

 _Huh?_ Kurapika whirled around. Two pairs of arms wrapped around him. In the distance, Leorio chuckled. A laugh bubbled up inside him too, and a sense of horror. "What—I don't—what are you doing here?"

"Nanika can do anything, remember?" Killua said, pulling back. He gestured at the round-cheeked girl with eyes Killua's hue and Illumi's shape. "Nanika and Alluka."

"We got your message," Gon said, frowning. "Leorio told us it was you who sent it."

Kurapika bit back a cuss. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, technically it was Hisoka."

"Ugh," said Killua, wrinkling his nose.

"Gon, you're doing okay?" Kurapika asked, studying the boy. Still dressed in his typical green outfit, still with the same smile. But his eyes held something different. A maturity that was new.

"I'm fine," Gon said. "Besides not having nen, but I haven't needed it so far." He frowned. "Are you okay, Kurapika?"

"I'm fine," Kurapika said quickly.

And then Kurapika knew from Gon's eyes. Gon knew that Kurapika was lying, even if he didn't know how. He knew he was the furthest thing from okay, and the only way he would know that was if he'd, too, experienced this adrift feeling.

 _I'm sorry you know this,_  Kurapika wanted to say.  _I'm sorry I wasn't there._ Shame prickled in his cheeks. He lowered his face. The antiseptic smell shoved its way into his sinuses, and yet he still didn't feel clean.

"So," said Killua. He leaned back against the wall, Alluka holding onto his arm, shy. "I want to know. What has my baby brother gotten himself into?"

"I honestly have no idea," Kurapika said. "And Hisoka hasn't been sneaking into my room in recent nights, so I can't ask him. I also don't have the time to devote to trying to find him."

"Yeah, yeah, Leorio told us about the Succession Contest and also about the Phantom Troupe and Hisoka and some serial killers." Killua sounded bored. "I'm curious why Hisoka would ask you to help Kalluto."

"I really don't want to speculate on the inner workings of Hisoka's mind," Kurapiks responded, and all four of them laughed, and then Alluka joined in. Even Cheadle smiled from across the room. "I can't—believe you really came." His heart pounded. There were risks. Especially since Gon had no nen. He had to—

"Yeah, well, we trust you, 'cause you're our friend," said Gon, flashing a smile. "We wouldn't have come if we didn't trust that you felt something was wrong."

Kurapika shook his head. "I don't have any clear evidence."

"Emotions can be a way of knowing," Leorio snapped.

Kurapika held his hands up. "How? What's the evidence?"

"Why, you—"

Kurapika smirked, and Leorio rolled his eyes. "Idiot."

"Guess we'll investigate," said Killua, looking at Gon. "I didn't want him to come, but he doesn't listen. Some things don't change."

Gon laughed.

"I'm glad," Kurapika said quietly.

"Listen," said Killua. "After—"

"I can help you get off this boat," Alluka interrupted. "After we get Kalluto off. Okay?"

Kurapika's jaw fell open.  _It'll be that easy?_

 _Then_ _—I don't even need the Spiders. I could_ _—she could get the eyes_ _—but_ —

Kurapika swallowed. "Only if it won't risk you. The entire queen's household—"

"Not a problem," Alluka chirped.

That household included Chrollo et al now. Kurapika glanced at Leorio, who arched his brows.

"Okay," said Kurapika.  _Including Chrollo and the Phantom Troupe, I suppose_. But he could wait to explain that one.

* * *

"Well," said Melody as Chrollo passed her on the stairwell. "Going back to work?"

"Indeed." Chrollo nodded at her. He kept a tie around his cross tattoo, concealing his identity from those in Tiers 1 and 2. Franklin hadn't found a trace of Hisoka, but he was concerned about the murders down below. Every time a murderer was found, another appeared.

On the other hand, they had found a way off the ship. Maybe. He'd have to check again.

"How is Kurapika handling it?" Melody asked. "I am concerned."

Oh. Chrollo paused. He adjusted his coat. "He's… still focusing on the eyes."

"At least not on killing you," Melody pointed out.

Chrollo shrugged.

Melody sighed. "Your heartbeat says less about death this time."

"I'm sorry?" Chrollo did not want her power, so he had never asked any details.

"You're starting to hate death," said Melody. "But you can't quite extract yourself from it."

"You picked that up from a heartbeat?"

Melody smiled. "I'm glad you're not planning on turning on Kurapika. He's not a bad person, really."

"I don't think he is," Chrollo said. "Just that our goals are fundamentally opposed, the majority of the time." A door slammed above them. Footsteps pounded, and then whoever it was exited the stairwell above them.

"Have I told you about how I came to look like this?" Melody asked. "Have you heard of the Sonata of Darkness?"

"The one composed by Satan himself?" Chrollo smirked. He'd been curious to find a copy, but he never had. "Someone once asked me if I'd composed it."

Melody sighed. "It killed my friend, and turned me into this. The flute one. I'm going to find and destroy the other parts. No one should die, or suffer, for it."

Chrollo frowned. "I'm sure they'd be worth a lot."

Melody looked sad.

"If you were Kurapika, he'd throw me down the stairs," Chrollo remarked.

Melody laughed. "Some things shouldn't exist."

"But they do," Chrollo countered. "The  _should haves_  are—"

"Tell me, if you aren't controlled by  _should haves_ , why are you here?"

He opened his mouth. No words came.

_Because Paku wanted to save me._

_Because they chose me as their head._

_Because I borrowed their abilities, and let them down._  Mercilessly slaughtered.

Kurapika was right. It was his fault.

"So you think," Chrollo asked slowly. "That there is not any point to trying to change the things that are as they are?"

"I think a Sonata, no. Nen clearly has good powers, but also strong evil—sometimes. But a person, on the other hand…" Melody paused. "I think a person can always change. I did. I just wish it hadn't come at so heavy a cost." She lifted up the sleeve on her arm, revealing her skin.

Chrollo's stomach turned. His eyes widened. He met her gaze. "Melody…"

"I don't think any person is bound to a life of selfishness or cruelty," said Melody. "But I wish I had learned before it cost my friend her life." She nodded at him. "Good day."

Chrollo felt as if his mind was being churned and shredded. He didn't know what to say or think or do.

_I won't let your deaths be in vain._

_By killing Hisoka._

There was no other way. The other members wouldn't stand for it.

They could always flip a coin…

"Melody," he called.

She paused, several steps below him.

"When we get off this ship," Chrollo said. "If I happen to find out where the copies of the sonata are, I can let you know."

Melody glanced at him. She smiled.


	9. And Round and Round It Goes

He couldn't change things. Not anything. All he could do was take the salt and poison life threw at him and aim it at someone else, grapple for the gold in the midst of muck and pebbles.

He couldn't save anyone. He had too much blood on his hands from one of his first memories, and he saw what happened to those who tried to protect. It was Paku who told him not to.

And Paku...

No one was listening. Any God up there couldn't bring themselves to care about a boy scavenging the streets, shivering and wishing for a coat to ward off the chill he couldn't seem to run away from.

Chrollo stood on the edge of the ship. Clutching the rail, he leaned out. Water stretched out below. His hair flapped. The wind was strong today, but now he had a coat like he always wished he had as a child, keeping him warm. He squinted against the sun.

Steal, or be stolen from.

Kill, or be killed.

There was no other way. He tightened his grip. To anyone who happened by, it would surely look as if he was about to jump. But Chrollo had confidence he wouldn't let go, and even if he slipped, he could use Bandit's Secret to transport himself elsewhere before he hit the glass waves.

When he learned nen, Chrollo knew. They could escape. And he could use it to stop the pimps running part of Meteor City without a risk.

They had pretty eyes. He heard the rumors when he arrived in Lukhso. He wanted them. They were valuable, and he could use the money to pay off the mafia. And he wanted to hold something beautiful in his palms.

He never even learned the tribe's name. _Kurta_.

He would never be anything, no one from Meteor City ever was, but he could hold something beautiful. He had legs. He had a legacy.

_Isn't that fighting fate?_

_No!_

The Kurtas didn't have a legacy anymore, except in Kurapika.

Something lashed itself around him. "Oh, come _on!_ " Chrollo burst out. "I wasn't going to jump!"

The chains only tightened.

He let go. And dangled there, caught up in Chain Jail again. "What did I even _do_ this time?"

He was yanked over the edge and deposited on the deck. Chrollo landed on his hands and knees. He glowered up at Kurapika. Though, thankfully, Chain Jail was now gone and he had access to his nen again. "Really?"

"I didn't want you to fall," Kurapika said, dropping onto a bench. "Also, it was just too tempting. You did say it wouldn't work a second time, and you were wrong." He smirked.

"You give Hisoka a run his money in terms of pettiness." Chrollo got to his feet.

"I suppose the three of us have that in common," Kurapika responded.

Chrollo hesitated, and then took a seat next to him. "Fair. What did you want to talk about?"

Kurapika's chains vanished from his hand. He glanced over at Chrollo. "Are you sure you weren't contemplating jumping?"

"I wasn't, but thanks for projecting yourself onto me yet again."

Kurapika scowled. "I have a goal. I won't die before then."

Chrollo said nothing. He'd seen too many like Kurapika.

No, he'd seen no one like Kurapika. Except, in some ways, Paku. But at least Paku gave her life for someone alive.

 _Was it worth it?_ The question filled him with a chill his coat couldn't warm away.

"There's a way off the ship," Kurapika said finally. "A foolproof one. But there's—a lot I need to tell you before then."

"And you're trusting me with this? Not gonna leave us to face the wrath of the Kakin princes, or do you think we aren't capable of holding our own?" Chrollo mocked.

"It's turning into a bloodbath down below, and you know it," Kurapika pointed out. "Listen." He told him about Hisoka's request, about Killua, Gon, and Alluka showing up—why hadn't Kalluto ever mentioned this Alluka?—and how Alluka could get them off the ship with her transportation abilities that were clearly far more advanced than Chrollo's, since he couldn't send people miles and miles.

"Wow," Chrollo said. He gripped his knees. "Hisoka's just looking out for himself."

"Maybe." Kurapika bit his lip. Blond strands fluttered against his cheek. "But there was something—that's an odd request for him to make. And they're here, so."

"I can tell Kalluto," Chrollo offered.

"No," said Kurapika. "I think Killua's already on it." He leaned his head back, staring up at the flawless sky. "I really was surprised they came. I didn't think they would trust me like that."

Chrollo waited.

"I don't think I've been a very good friend to them," said Kurapika finally. "And I'm still not—I don't know whether it was the right thing to do, to ask them to come. I would rather protect them. I don't want to lose any more friends." His voice snagged. "Is that a good friend? Isn't that enough?"

 _Who did I kill?_ Chrollo pressed his palms together, lacing his fingers.

"Do you know why I wasn't there? When you slaughtered everyone?"

 _No, but you're going to tell me_.

"Pairo was—he saved my life when we were kids, dragged me back from the edge of a cliff that I almost fell—he wound up hurt. He couldn't walk right, see right—he helped me cheat to pass the exam to be allowed to leave—I wanted to leave, we wanted to leave—to explore the world before—and then I wanted to help him. I wanted to find treatment, so we could explore the world we read about in a book. An outsider needed help and even though we weren't supposed to, as kids, we helped her, and she left us with that book." Kurapika buried his face in his arms.

Chrollo's throat burned. There was nothing to be said. He killed Pairo, hadn't he?

"He had scarlet eyes," Kurapika added.

Chrollo lowered his face.

There was no point to regret. He learned that at any early age. Regret killed, and what was written, was written. You were only following the paths—but then—Shalnark—Kortopi—wasn't there any way they could have lived? Or had it always come down to Hisoka? To h _im?_

_No!_

"I'm sorry."

The words he never said, not in years, flitted into the air. Fragile and flimsy, just words, sounds in a language men created because they wanted to have a way to justify themselves, to pretend they had any control.

He looked into Kurapika's eyes, red now in both pupil and the white parts, streaming. He couldn't mend it. But…

 _I wish I hadn't done it_. "I'm sorry," Chrollo said again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Melody's words floated into his mind.

Kurapika gaped at him. Chrollo felt something wet on his cheek. Salty water. Not the ocean, but tears. He wiped them away. "You want them back," said Kurapika.

"I can't have them back."

"You don't want to lose anyone else."

Chrollo shook his head.

"I don't want to lose Gon and Killua. And Alluka's just a kid—"

"Trust them," eked out Chrollo.

"Hm?" Kurapika blinked. He sniffled.

"They trust you. So trust them. They want to be here just like the people I—my troupe—they want to do this. Protect them by trusting them." Chrollo gripped his skull. "Paku…"

_Her decision wasn't wrong. It was right for her._

_Right?_

"I'm sorry," whispered Kurapika.

Chrollo shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Kurapika glared at him.

"Maybe it does," Chrollo said. _I want it too. But that doesn't mean it does_.

"If you were to lose everyone, what would happen?" asked Kurapika.

Chrollo's stomach clenched. "I—" _Wouldn't matter._

Nothing would matter. He might as well jump, then. But fate, but fate—he didn't want it to be so cruel to him.

_It's hopeless._

"Come with us," said Kurapika. "When we leave this ship. I'll ask Oito. She'll agree and we know it. Take your troupe, and leave."

 _Leave Hisoka_.

"He won't stop," said Chrollo. "Or will you leave the eyes?"

Kurapika managed a frail smile. "I guess we try our hardest to achieve our goals until the end, and then—"

"Then we leave." Chrollo swallowed. He couldn't force his troupe to go.

Maybe just this once, he could try. He met Kurapika's gaze. "Okay."

Kurapika held his hand out. Chrollo shook it. And then Kurapika stiffened.

Chrollo peered past him. Ahh, Tserriednich, the pervert. He was passing by.

"I hate him," Kurapika commented. "I hate seeing the strong prey on the weak."

"The world isn't kind to the weak," Chrollo agreed. "If there's one thing you learn in Meteor City, it's that." _That's why you use Emperor Time, isn't it? You're smart enough to know you need it for your goals._

_Are they worth it, though?_

"It's wrong," said Kurapika, clenching his fists. "It's _wrong_."

"It's the way it is."

"It shouldn't be."

"Does it matter, if you can't change it?"

Kurapika glanced at him. "I want to find something to do. And I need to get into his cabin anyways."

Made sense. Chrollo studied his shoes. "If I had an idea of a way to get information about how to get into his cabin, and how to perhaps stop him, would you be game for it?"

Kurapika's eyes widened. "Do you have an idea?"

Chrollo plucked out his phone. "There are advantages to not dealing with life completely alone." He winked.

"I'm concerned," Kurapika remarked.

"Don't be." Chrollo pocketed his phone. "I'll let you know."

Kurapika swallowed. "Please tell me you're not going to—"

"Trust me."

"No."

Chrollo scowled, and then Kurapika laughed as if to say he'd just been teasing Chrollo, eyes closing and the sound free.

 _How beautiful._ Something lurched inside him. Chrollo jumped to his feet. "Are you heading back to Oito's cabin?"

Kurapika nodded. They walked back together.

Oito greeted them with a smile. Woble reached for Kurapika, and he swung her through the air. Chrollo watched Phinks try to help Oito with her nen. Nobunaga had a haunted look on his face as he watched Kurapika and the baby play with blocks.

"When he acts like that, he almost reminds me of Shalnark," commented Nobunaga to Chrollo. "Carefree."

The three of them—Nobunaga, Shalnark, and Uvogin—had been scavenging together before they joined up with Chrollo. Chrollo had heard that Shalnark kept slinking behind Uvogin, taking the leftovers of whatever he was able to steal, until finally Nobunaga caught him when they set a trap for him with a shiny phone. He was a teenager at the time.

Chrollo sighed. He checked his phone.

 _You better pay me,_ came one message.

 _Poor Blinky_ , came the second one.

Chrollo smiled.

That evening, there was a knock on Oito's cabin door. Kurapika opened it and stiffened.

"I take it it was a success," Chrollo called.

"Your Majesty," Machi said to Oito, nodding as she and Shizuku entered. Blood stained Machi's white shirt, but she had a satisfied smirk on her face.

"What," asked Oito, her face white. "Did you do?"

"We took care of Tserriednich for the next week," answered Shizuku. "I highly doubt he'll be able to do anything, but don't worry, the damage isn't likely permanent."

"We may have threatened to come back and make it permanent if he ever attacks another girl on this ship again," Machi said, pushing pink strands back from her face. "I want my money now, Chrollo."

"You didn't—" Kurapika sounded horrified.

"Not hardly; do you think I'd let that shitstain touch me?" Machi scowled. Chrollo dug through his coat, pulling out a bag of coins. "He's just going to be in pain for… a while. And he certainly won't be capable of his favorite activity."

"Blinky took care of all the evidence," Shizuku added, holding her vacuum up with pride.

A wry smile spread across Oito's lips. Kurapika shook his head. Phinks cackled.

 _We'll be off this ship in a week,_ Chrollo promised himself.

"It's so strange," commented Oito. "My family growing up—I had so many siblings, and we never protected each other, much less random people. And then, of course, there's _this_ family of royalty. But you all..."

Phinks beamed.

 _We're a Spider, not a family_.

It wasn't true, and he knew it. He met Machi and Shizuku's eyes. "Thank you."

"Thank me by letting me kill Hisoka." Machi smirked and let herself out, Shizuku following.

Kurapika gestured to Chrollo. "Can we talk?"

Chrollo followed him out onto the deck. "If you're going to lecture me, I trust them to take care of themselves—"

"I wasn't going to, but whatever." Kurapika crossed his arms. In the dark, his eyes gleamed like slivers of moon. "If you spared me…" He clamped his mouth shut.

_Are you talking to me about sparing Hisoka?_

_He won't spare us._

_I never thought you would, either._

_I understand you._

_And I understand Hisoka. That's why_ — _that's why I wanted to fight him._

 _And I didn't, at the same time. He is so very fascinating, but_ —Chrollo didn't want to pay the price anymore.

"Sorry," said Kurapika, slipping away and leaving Chrollo staring there, at the abyss of ocean.

_I don't know what to do._

* * *

Killua sighed when Alluka and Gon insisted on coming with him. Not that he really minded, but he thought it was a good idea to recommend they stay with Leorio, but of course, neither of them planned to.

" _Kalluto's our brother," said Alluka. "We should help him."_

And Killua could only think that Kalluto had never been a brother to Alluka, had never even asked about her. He clung to their mother and spoke to no one else, and now he was joining the Phantom Troupe as if he wanted to antagonize every single member of his family. Even Mother wouldn't approve.

Still, Kalluto was his brother, and he had to find him, had to save him from whatever he'd gotten himself into.

The only interactions Killua really remembered with Kalluto were him being jealous of Alluka. He hoped Kalluto would have gotten over it by now, considering the hell that Alluka's life had been.

Leorio had explained to them the contest to kill Hisoka. Killua checked the information he had from Cheadle about the cabin Kalluto was staying in on the third tier. He paused in the hallway.

"I don't like how this place feels," Alluka whispered. "Onii-chan, it's—scary."

"Really?" asked Gon with a frown.

"We'll be okay." Killua couldn't agree more, though. The air was damp, and cold, and the only sounds he heard were bickering. There was nary a laugh to be heard. Leorio had warned about several serial killers on the loose, and that in addition to the Phantom Troupe, _and_ Hisoka.

Killua gritted his teeth. _Stupid Kalluto_.

The door to the cabin Kalluto was staying in opened. Killua froze.

But Kalluto didn't emerge. Illumi did.

"Oh no," whispered Gon. Alluka clutched Killua's shoulder.

Killua pushed them back, behind the corner. He peered back around. Illumi wandered down the corridor, heading in the opposite direction. His shoulders were slumped, though, and his head lower instead of having his chin thrown high like normal.

"What happened to him?" asked Gon.

"No idea." And Killua was afraid to ask.

He wished he could ask. When he was younger, he might have been able to. Illumi looked sad somethings, when he had to train Killua, but only briefly. And now Killua was left with wondering whether or not he'd imagined any regret when Illumi trained him, or if he was only imagining it because he wanted the pain to stop.

But Illumi was also kind, sometimes, and would play with him—before he turned around and poisoned or whipped him. Though he clearly took no pleasure in it like Milluki. Not that Illumi ever took pleasure in anything. Killua didn't know if he'd ever seen his brother smile.

Then again, Dad did the same to Illumi. And Illumi yelled at Milluki for pushing Killua around.

" _He's the heir!"_

" _He's your favorite!" Milluki had retorted. "You love him more than you love me!"_

"Maybe ask him where Kalluto is?" Alluka suggested. "You don't have to tell him about me."

"Or me," Gon added. He looked worried about being dead weight. But he wasn't. Neither him nor Alluka were.

Because as worried as Killua was for them, he wanted them around him. They calmed him. They reminded him that he was more than just a Zoldyck, more than his family and what he had done, what had been done to him, and whatever had happened had good things too. They anchored him.

"No," said Killua. "It's okay. We'll find Kalluto on our own." He could not risk it. Illumi would probably accuse him of either not bringing Alluka aboard and therefore going against his promise to be responsible for her, or figure out that she was here and hunt her down for Nanika. And Killua would rather die than have that happen.

Illumi paused at the edge of the corridor. And then he vanished around the corner. Killua exhaled.

Screams erupted from behind them. Alluka jumped. Gon flinched. Killua stayed calm. It was part of his training. Count his heartbeat, use any adrenaline that surged.

"Another murder!" wailed a voice. A hysterical one joined in, screaming about a dead husband. Gon cringed.

Killua crept closer to the commotion. A market place. The scents of roasted meat and sweet fruits were overpowered by the stench of blood.

"At least we know Illumi has an alibi," Gon tried to joke.

"If you were doing your job better, you would keep people safe!" A man stood up, pointing his fingers at what looked like Kakin guards.

 _Get out._ Killua could already tell where this was going. Alluka cocked her head. Gon took a step back.

"I can help," Alluka called.

"Alluka, no!" Killua grabbed her arm.

She spun to glare at him. "Killua!"

"No one can help!" screamed a hysterical voice, one of many shifting people in a crowed. "We're all going to be slaughtered! Maybe that was their plan! The Kakins! Maybe the ants weren't killed and they've taken over and we're all—"

Shame filled Gon's face. He lowered it.

"Shut up!" shrieked a voice, and then it started. The pushing, the shouting, the blood.

_Get out._

This time, Killua was sure Bisky would not mind if he ran away. He grabbed Alluka under one arm and Gon under the other, using Godspeed to fly away from the riot. Up a stairwell, over a railing, into Tier 2. He set them down, gasping.

Alluka hit him in the chest. "What if Kalluto's there?" she shrieked. "Why did you stop me? We could—" Her eyes, blue like his own, filled with tears. "Those people—"

"You can't help people who don't want to be helped!" Killua snapped.

Gon clutched his knees. "Hisoka clearly wasn't exaggerating."

"No," came a voice behind them. "I clearly wasn't."


	10. Helpless Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for suicidal thoughts this chapter.

Alluka gasped. Killua grabbed her, whirling around to face Hisoka.

"Hisoka!" yelped Gon. His eyes lit up.

The clown rested his elbow on his head, arm dangling down. His ever present cards were pinched between his fingers. "Who's killing each other now?"

" _Everyone_ ," snapped Killua. They couldn't hear it from here, though. All he heard were the tinny laughs in the distance of the Kakin royalty, and the gentle shushing of the water against the side of the boat.

Alluka peered up at Hisoka, who frowned at her. "Oh right," said Hisoka. "You're the sister. You know your brother hired me to help kill you awhile ago, right?"

Illumi—hired Hisoka? Killua couldn't breathe. _Why do you hate her so much? What did she ever do to you? Do you even care about our family, or only what you think our family should be?_ He glared at Hisoka. "Bastard!"

Gon's fist flew out. Hisoka dodged.

"Don't insult Alluka again," eked out Killua.

"I thought you were better at punching than that, Gon," said Hisoka. Ignoring Killua's threat. Of course.

"I don't—have nen anymore," Gon stammered. He flushed.

Hisoka avoided looking at him. "Well, I suppose, neither Illumi nor I got what we wanted from that excursion. Alluka's free with Killua, Killua still doesn't love Illumi the most, and I'll never be able to fight you."

 _Illumi_ —Killua's lungs froze. "Illumi has no idea what love is."

"That, we can agree on," Hisoka mused.

"Also, if you imply Gon's useless again, I'll electrocute you," Killua warned. "Alluka will help."

Hisoka raised his hands. "That wasn't my intention."

"I heard you died yourself," Gon said, peering up at Hisoka. "But nen brought you back. Your own nen."

"So you're keeping tabs on me?" Hisoka laughed, but the sound was like crumpling paper in the wind. "Indeed. Chrollo Lucilfer and I have a bit of a battle going on. I hired your brother to kill me, Killua. Team up with him and maybe he'll relax."

Alluka kept glancing from Gon to Killua to Hisoka.

"His idea of love will only hurt me," Killua stated.

"Isn't that what love does?"

"That's sad," said Alluka. "Were you locked in a room, too?"

Hisoka started. And then his eyes found Killua. "I killed Gotoh on that mission."

Something cold wrapped itself through Killua's veins, his stomach. "You're lying." Canary would have told him. Amane. Tsubone, or—

"Sorry," Hisoka said with a shrug.

"Why are you like this?" yelled Gon. His voice shook. Killua looked over at his friend and saw grief etched in his face, grief that he would blame himself for, and Killua would wind back time to get Gon not to blame himself. Then again…

_You're still my friend, no matter what._

"You learned nothing from almost dying?" Gon continued. "You think that it wasn't a warning sign?"

"It was 'speed up' sign," Hisoka said.

"You're a fucking dumbass!" Gon bellowed. He clenched his fists. Tears filled his eyes. "If you don't care, why are you asking—why are you trying to antagonize us? It's like you want us to fight you, too. It's like you want the entire world against you. Do you really think you're that strong? Or do you want to die again?"

Hisoka shuffled his cards. "Only the strong survive." He showed an ace.

Gon ripped the card out of Hisoka's hand and tore it in two. And then in fours, and eighths, until it was completely shredded. "So what, do you want to prove yourself—the strongest ever? To prove you deserve to be alive? Well, _I don't deserve to be alive_ and yet I still am!"

It rocked Killua to his bones to hear Gon saying he didn't deserve to be alive. "I want you alive!"

" _And I am!"_ Gon pointed his finger at Hisoka. "And I want you to stay alive! We still have to fight again! Nen or not—you helped us out sometimes—"

"Only when it benefitted me—"

"What if no one has to die?" cried Gon. "Why can't you think outside the box, you dumbass?"

 _People always have to die._ Killua knew this. It'd been drilled into his head since the age of two.

" _Did you ever feel bad, Illu-nii?" Killua asked at the age of three, snuggled up to his brother's side and trying to recover from a bout of poisoning._

" _Once, and Dad punished me for it," Illumi answered, stroking his hair. "It's okay. You're not a bad person. You're a Zoldyck. And we matter to each other no matter what."_

_And Killua realized Illumi knew what he was asking, and was telling him that even if everyone hated him, he would still love him._

Funny, that's what he told Alluka when they left Kukuroo Mountain.

" _Don't coddle him, Illumi," yelled their mother's voice, shattering the reverie._

"Maybe you don't need to make enemies of everyone, because people like you!" yelled Gon.

"You hate me," Hisoka pointed out. But his face was the color of curdled milk.

"I don't," said Alluka. "I don't even know you. But if you're going to be mean to my friends, then I'll hate you."

Hisoka swallowed. He took a step back. "Find Kalluto, and get him the hell out of here, okay?"

"What's the point to that?" shouted Killua. "Why are you—"

"Don't let him go in the black door," Hisoka said. "Find him before he goes through the black door." And then he took off, running.

 _Huh?_ Killua gaped after him. He didn't understand. Not at all.

Gon doubled over, crying.

"Why do you care about that clown?" Killua tried to joke. _Gotoh. Gotoh is dead._ After Illumi retreated and Mike, Gotoh was the only one he could smile at for _years_.

"I was an idiot," Gon said. "But I had you. He has what, your brother?"

"He's fucked then," Killua stated, and Alluka hit him.

* * *

Hisoka didn't remember the last time he'd run away from a confrontation, but he wasn't certain he wanted to remember the last time.

 _This has gone too far_.

Below him, people were slaughtering each other. The Kakin guards would probably regain order, but temporarily. Morena Prudo would win, wouldn't she?

The strongest survived.

The weak, their blood stewed in the streets. The weak had all their control, all their joy, stripped away.

Hisoka had experienced that once, only for about a week, before he revolted and got the hell out of there. And since then, he'd run around the world looking for—fun. Joy. Some sort of pleasure in life. Proof he was the strongest.

_Haven't you always been running?_

Hisoka sent his fist into a random wall. Bungee Gum fingers. He felt no pain. He never thought he would miss pain.

He wanted to win. He wanted to—live, because without it, without that proof—he was just a scrap of breathing, bleeding flesh, born to no one he knew and born for nothing. So he found pleasure. That was something he could at least look forward to. And he'd never wanted anything more.

_Didn't you?_

He remembered the walls closing in around him, and clinging to the only enjoyment he could find. And of course that bastard would be on this ship right now, bookending the times he was alive in his life. He didn't count his early years, not that he even remembered most of them. Bungee Gum had been inflating his lungs, beating his heart for him, since he'd discovered it. It hadn't saved him just then.

He should find Illumi. Maybe they could fuck and then Illumi would kill him.

But he knew. He had known ever since that first hesitation.

_You won't do it._

But it had to be Illumi.

He might do it. Maybe. But it'd take a lot to get him there. Hisoka would have to kill Kalluto or Killua or something to make him do it, and if he did—would that even still be Illumi in that shell?

To have Illumi kill him, Illumi would have to be destroyed, and Hisoka wasn't—willing to do that.

_Fuck!_

If anyone in the Phantom Troupe found out Illumi hesitated, much less fucked Hisoka and then let him go… normally it wouldn't matter, but Chrollo was hardly operating as per normal now. He was disintegrating with his legs falling off one by one.

 _You're a spare,_ he'd told Illumi. And it was true. That's how his family saw him. But to Hisoka, Illumi was not a spare.

_Not to me. Never to me._

And Illumi clearly liked that, clearly liked being the final boss for someone. Because it meant someone saw him.

He couldn't do this anymore. He had to choose. Illumi, or himself. And he didn't understand why he even had to choose.

Illumi was a part of him. And something else.

Hisoka threw his head back and laughed. In the end, he'd lost. He failed.

He didn't deserve to be alive.

At the very least, he knew someone with angry pink hair would might provide some joy from slaughtering him.

* * *

"Woble," Kurapika tried, crouched on the floor. "Woble, you can't eat that."

The baby squawked in indignation as Kurapika removed a block from her chubby hands. Chrollo smirked. Woble let out a wail and Kurapika picked her up, bouncing her as he sung her a lullaby in a language Chrollo didn't understand.

Or, well, a language he didn't understand the words of. Chrollo clasped his hands together.

"That's the Kurta tongue, isn't it?" asked Nobunaga, appearing behind him.

Chrollo nodded. Did anyone else in the world speak it now, or was it just Kurapika?

Woble's whimpers calmed. She leaned her head against Kurapika's shoulder. He kept crooning to her until she fell asleep.

"I thought you said he could find Hisoka," said Nobunaga. "Feitan texted me about it. I think he's itching to kill, but it sounds like it's a battle for them to just stay alive down there right now."

Chrollo frowned. "Is it really getting chaotic?"

"Apparently." Nobunaga exhaled. "The sooner we get off this ship, the better."

"There's a way," said Chrollo. "Someone—there's someone with an ability to transport us anywhere."

"Are you going to steal it?"

A chill ran down Chrollo's spine. "No. She's offered to help us. She has—a mission to help her brother. It shouldn't be more than a day or two. And then—"

"Hisoka's still here," Nobunaga pointed out.

"What if he left him here?" Chrollo countered. "We could leave. He could fight everyone on this ship. We could—go elsewhere." _Be safe. All of you alive._

"If you don't think he'll find a way off this ship, Chrollo…" Nobunaga exhaled. "I never did like him. Why did you?"

"For the same reason I like you," Chrollo answered. "You're interesting, and useful."

"So in the end, it's just about you?" called Kurapika's voice from across the room. "You love yourself through them?"

Chrollo glared. _Do you have to be like this?_ Kurapika was perhaps more dangerous to his group than Hisoka. But he was one of them—well, only in name. Just like Hisoka.

_I wish you'd join us for real._

"Not hardly," said Nobunaga. "We are all of us, one. We need each other."

"Like parasites," Kurapika taunted. Woble yanked at his hair. He winced. "Ow!"

"No," said Chrollo, looking out the window. Fog covered the sea today, rendering it invisible. "Like people." He tossed a smile at Kurapika. "We need each other."

Kurapika swallowed. He headed into the bedroom, and Chrollo followed, watching as he lay Woble down in her crib.

"You'll be a good dad someday," Chrollo remarked.

Kurapika glanced at him, surprise in his eyes. His features softened looking back down at Woble. "I don't remember the last time I thought about having a family."

Chrollo swallowed. The ship rocked gentle, back and forth.

"Did you ever?"

Chrollo watched Woble suck her thumb in her sleep, safe and secure, as safe as she could be with her siblings trying to kill her. What a cruel lot for fate to give an innocent child.

He was so, so familiar with cruel lots. Chrollo shook his head. "Not really. It was… a waste of time."

"And it'd be a waste of time for me to start thinking about it again," Kurapika said. "I'm going to—I don't know if I have eighty years left, or one. I just know it's less than it should have been."

Chrollo scowled. _You stupid—_

"And if I were to have a kid, I'd just be a bad dad," said Kurapika. "Like Ging Freecss. Too focused on myself. Like you."

Chrollo folded his arms. "You could stop using Emperor Time, you know."

"I wouldn't know how to live, without the eyes to pursue." Kurapika pinched his earring.

 _You'd have to acknowledge it was a waste, wouldn't you, then? Emperor Time. Your life. Your tribe._ But Chrollo couldn't bring himself to say it when he could still hear the Kurta lullaby echoing in his ears. "So you plan to get them from Tserriednich before leaving?"

Kurapika nodded. "The information Machi and Shizuku got—it's helpful. Thank them for me?"

Chrollo caught his breath. "I will." He watched as Kurapika turned away, shoulders hunched. "What are the chances of you sticking with us once we disembark?"

"Zero," Kurapika responded. "But you know that, don't you?"

"Of course." Chrollo winked. "You might like having a family again, though. A dysfunctional one, but—"

Kurapika snorted. Woble stirred. "Are you all leaving the ship with us?"

Chrollo sighed. "I'll ask. Recommend, even. But if some of them want to stay behind and continue to look for Hisoka, I can't stop them. And I won't." They had to make their own choices.

He couldn't become fate. Though, he was tempted to invoke his power as the head.

"Not even if it's for their own good?" Kurapika asked.

"I don't know if it's worse to let someone die," said Chrollo. "Or to kill what they live for." He hoped. He wanted them all to come. He thought of Hisoka, and what he lived for, and what Chrollo had destroyed. _That's why you're targeting my legs, aren't you, Hisoka? You want me to experience the same thing_.

He tried to conjure that same black, sticky hatred that slathered his insides when he thought of the man recently. But it wouldn't come. Still, the others… "Of course, if we were to locate Hisoka in the meantime, and end that, then that wouldn't be a problem."

Kurapika arched his eyebrows. The fog coated the window.

"You know how to find him," said Chrollo. "Dowsing Chain, right?"

Kurapika hesitated. "Yes, it could find him."

"And will you?" Chrollo waited.

"No," Kurapika said, shaking his head. "I won't."

He was not surprised at all. A small smile spread across Chrollo's face, and something clenched in his abdomen. He needed to get away from this man.

"Are you mad?" Kurapika called.

Chrollo turned around. "No." _Do you care?_ But if he asked, Kurapika would probably say something about being worried he'd take his anger out on Oito. "Actually, if you said you would, I might have been disappointed."

A frown flitted across Kurapika's face. "I don't understand."

 _You may have a warped idea of justice, but still. Still, I don't feel like shattering it any more._ Chrollo managed a nod. "I'll be out for about an hour. Tell Oito, okay?"

He could tell from the look on Kurapika's face as he nodded that he suspected Chrollo was going out to hunt Hisoka. But he wasn't. He needed to take a walk, clear his head, hope the chill from the fog seeped into him and put out the embers sparking in his abdomen.

 _I wish you believed you deserved to live_.

It wasn't for him to decide, though. It was fate.

Well, Chrollo didn't like Kurapika's fate.

_I want you to believe that, even if you die._

He looked down at the clouds rolling below, blanketing the sea, rendering it invisible.

_I want to believe that._

* * *

"He's definitely on the third tier, right?" asked Gon.

"Supposedly," Killua answered as they ate soft pretzel rolls and sipped papaya juice. The people aboard the second tier had said that the Kakin soldiers managed to regain control, but dozens were dead and would be buried at sea. Thankfully the thick mist cloaked the sight from everyone else.

They huddled up here, shivering. Leorio had called, panicked. The med bay was apparently swamped with survivors. Killua assured him they were okay, and texted the same to Kurapika.

"Who is that?" asked Alluka. "Onii-chan—"

"Who?" asked Killua, scanning the deck. His shirt clung to him, damp. He squinted.

A figure emerged through the darkness. A blond male in robes, his face beaten black and blue and green, yellow and maroon. His nose was crooked, and he hobbled as if he could barely walk. "I don't believe you three have permission to be up here."

"Who are you?" asked Gon.

"Prince Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou."

 _Some prince_ , Killua thought. But he said nothing. He knew this man's type. He wouldn't taunt them with that information unless he wanted something. "What do you want?"

Alluka scooted behind him.

"A friend of mine told me where your brother will be," answered Tserriednich. "Killua Zoldyck. Gon Freecss. And… Nanika."

Killua leapt to his feet. Electricity sizzled in his fingertips. He was not going to let this filthy scumbag threaten his friend or his sister. "How do you know our names? And answer my question. What the fuck do you want?"

"Something a friend can give me, and the cost is to tell you that your brother will be on the deck where the riot was tomorrow morning, or tonight really, at three am," answered Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou. He hobbled another step.

"And how does your friend have this information?" Killua fired back. "For all we know you plan to ambush us there. Since you know our identities."

"It'll be cordoned off, anyways," Gon said.

"Not my problem." The man's lips twisted into a sickening smile. "He said to give you this." He tossed something at Killua. Gon caught it automatically.

A fan.

Mother's fan. Now Kalluto's fan.

 _Fuck. He's already been kidnapped or something, hasn't he_?

Tserriednich vanished into the fog. Killua swore.

"We could always contact Illumi," Gon suggested, voice weak.

"No." Killua shook his head. "We'll do it on our own." They couldn't count on Leorio or Kurapika, either. If that prince was involved in the succession war, he might even be hoping they called Kurapika for help to give him an opportunity to pounce on Prince Woble when she was defenseless.

"You have me," said Alluka, eyes black. Nanika. "I'll protect you."

Killua swallowed. _You shouldn't have to._ She barely even knew Kalluto, and the last time Kalluto and Alluka were together he'd shoved her down the stairs. Granted, that was eight years ago at least.

But he was their brother. And if he could protect Alluka, he could save Kalluto. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Kurokura, and Illumi makes a decision.


	11. The Dead and the Living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning for a brief mention of child abuse and self-harm at the beginning of the chapter, and nsfw later.

" _Don't flinch, Illumi. Don't close your eyes. Watch."_ Mother held his head up by his hair, arms wrapped around his chest as he watched his father remove a heart with a hand hardened into a knife, the same hand that patted Illumi on the head once, that slapped him many times. He wanted to scream, but he didn't want Dad to hit him, so he kept silent. He watched, because they told him to.

Was he two? Three? Illumi wasn't sure. He looked away too fast, though. It wasn't good enough, and they dragged him to the basement, fastened his wrists in manacles that his wrists turned out to be too small for, and Maha commented in the distance about him being too delicate a child and how it must have come from Kikyo's Meteor City blood, and Illumi knew at however young he was that he would struggle and he would be better than they thought he could be, he wouldn't let them down, he was a Zoldyck.

But he wasn't good enough, was he?

" _Grandfather?"_

He remembered Milluki toddling out of the prison in the basement after his first whipping, plump arms outstretched for his grandfather, the one who seemed to dote on him. Illumi was seven. And Grandfather turned away, and Father told Illumi to come with him when he dragged Milluki back to the chamber, made Illumi watch.

Illumi tossed a needle into the ceiling of the cabin. He didn't particularly want to drown in those memories now. He wasn't sure why he couldn't force himself to breathe through them.

That was Grandfather's tip. Make sure his breathing was normal—no, quieter than normal, but even in pace and depth. _Focus on that._ It made killing easier, and lessened the pain from a whip digging into the flesh between his vertebrae, electricity pumping through his every muscle and feeling like it was shredding him from the inside.

Illumi had to get out of this goddamn cabin. It felt like it was suffocating him. He'd been hanging out in it, hoping Hisoka would show. If not Hisoka, Kalluto. But neither came, and the loneliness stuffed itself into his lungs like wads of cotton, drying him out and choking him.

"Still engaged?"

Illumi turned. The corridors were too quiet, reeking of death and grief.

Morena Prudo approached him. "I could use a Zoldyck power. It would end it quicker, and I've never been one to enjoy the game."

"Keep dreaming," Illumi told her, holding his hand out to halt her.

"Does one kiss count? Even for a purpose?" Morena put her hands on her hips. Hair fell over her scars.

"It counts," Illumi said. He doubted Hisoka would like it.

"Good grief, you're still so innocent," Morena complained.

Illumi blinked. That word had never been used to describe him.

"Such an idealist," she mocked.

"You're wasting my time."

"But you never do anything without the purpose of killing," Morena countered. "That's what you were born for, isn't it? Everyone in your family? Even this engagement of yours—it's all to kill, isn't it? The more bodies you ratchet up, do your parents smile more at you? Or did they ever?"

Now she was more than a nuisance. "Shut up!"

Her hand landed on his arm. "We're the same, you and I."

"You're unwanted," he told her.

"And so are you."

Illumi shoved her away from him. "I am not." His parents wanted him. They did.

"They want tools," Morena countered, cackling. She wiped her mouth. "You don't make choices. You're a puppet anyways. What would it matter if you helped me-"

"I am nothing like you."

"You are me," Morena informed him. "And I am you."

Illumi whipped out a needle.

"Did you know that Killua is on board?" Morena crooned.

Illumi froze. _What?_

"Killua, Gon, and Alluka," Morena added. "You know, the friend Killua loves more than you, and the sister you pretend doesn't exist because they're more powerful than you and because you listen to your parents. You don't care about the Zoldyck family. You care about you. You care about impressing your parents and making sure, making _really_ sure, you have their love when you never will. Because they can't love you. You're a waste. You are useful, but you cannot be the heir because you're not good enough."

" _Shut up!"_ Illumi heard his voice, raw and unhinged, tearing from his throat. He threw his arms at her, but she dodged.

"Aren't you afraid? Aren't you afraid you aren't good enough for the clown, even though you don't want to kill him? Or maybe you do. Maybe you don't have the vaguest clue what you want, but you should choose. Life or death. I chose the latter." She gave him a chilling sneer. "Choose one and lose your family or choose another and lose yourself, it's all up to you—"

"Shut _up!_ Shut up! _Shut up!"_ Illumi screamed. He clamped his hands over his ears, blocking her voice. His chest heaved. He shook all over. "How do you know all this? How do you know that Killua—All—"

"Let's just say I know someone who is skilled at getting information without torture," Morena panted. "Kalluto likes to talk. Maybe because he's just happy someone's paying attention to him."

"You stay away from my brother," Illumi warned her. He held up a fistful of needles. "Or I'll—"

"Killua's here to try and save him," Morena said. "Because, of course, Killua is the heir. You are not. Killua is better than you in every way and you hate him for it, don't you?"

"I _don't!"_ Illumi shouted. That was a _lie_ , a filthy lie!

"No," Morena said. "You hate yourself." She tapped her chin.

"Kalluto does not need saving—he's more than capable—"

"Idiot," snarled Morena. "And you're so naive, so idealistic, so _childlike_ , Illumi. I talked to a mutual friend. And you should know that people know things you don't. And Killua hates you. But you know that, don't you? Or are you really _that_ naïve of a child? What a baby. You treat him like scum. If he loved you, he would seek you out, and he would ask you for your help. But he won't. Because he hates you and wants to be rid of you."

Illumi couldn't breathe.

"You're not worth kissing," Morena said, and then she glided away, and Illumi couldn't stop her.

It wasn't true.

It wasn't. Killua loved him. Killua told him so, back when he was a child. Illumi was helping him grow strong, get power, be the best Zoldyck because—because—he wanted—he loved Killua—and he wanted—

_You to love me._

Illumi threw his head back, slamming it against the wall. Cackles ripped through the air, broken and curdled and decaying. He hit his head again and again.

 _I just wanted_ —

_To be loved._

He thought of Hisoka again. _Where are you?_

_I need you._

_I want you._

He had to find him. To kill—to kiss—

_Help me._

What he wanted wasn't possible. Not with Hisoka.

But after dozens of years, after his family—was it even possible?

He couldn't hope for idealism. He was not a child.

 _But I want_ —

 _I_ want _._

_I want to be alive._

* * *

"Actually, you can use it like this," Phinks told Oito.

Kurapika leaned against the wall, watching. Killua sent a text promising to have it figured out by the morning. He forwarded it to Chrollo as he watched Phinks and Oito laughing together as he tried to help her learn nen.

It seemed strange with her husband, a king, aboard, but the man was a monster and a murderer, and Phinks—he at least looked at Oito like she was a queen. Perhaps it wasn't wrong. Perhaps right and wrong were grayer than he'd initially thought.

Kurapika studied his shoes. Across the room, Chrollo checked his phone. He met Kurapika's eyes and nodded, and then he smiled as Phinks encouraged Oito to try again.

"How old were you when you first learned nen?" Oito asked.

"Mm." Phinks frowned. "Maybe about fifteen?"

"I'm so old," Oito lamented.

"Not hardly," Phinks objected, and Kurapika covered his mouth to keep from laughing. Chrollo wasn't as successful at muffling the sound, but the other two didn't seem to notice. Nobunaga was busy rocking Woble to sleep.

_You're not monsters._

_Not anymore._

_And if you aren't, then were you ever?_

_And if you were, than was I? Am I?_

Kurapika pried himself away from the wall. "Good night." He slipped out into the corridor, heading back to his room.

As he expected, he heard footsteps behind him. Kurapika sighed. "Yes?"

"Are you going to steal the eyes now?"

Kurapika spun. The ship rocked slightly. "Why?"

"I was going to offer to help." Chrollo stuck his fists in the pockets of his coat. He lowered his face.

 _To help?_ Kurapika gaped at him.

"It's the least I can do," said Chrollo. "I know you probably want to do it all on your own, because—because that's who you are, but I hope you know it's really hard to get into that room even with what Machi and Shizuku told me, and I thought—" He clamped his mouth shut.

"Why did you torture the children?" Kurapika burst out.

Chrollo flinched.

He couldn't help it. It burned like acid inside of him. His chest heaved. "Chrollo—those kids-— see you in there, being gentle with Woble and—how—how could you—why—"

"Do you want an honest answer?"

"Do you have one?"

Chrollo shook his head. He wouldn't meet Kurapika's eyes. "The children—in Meteor City, they are always the ones who suffer the most. Around the world, I suppose, that's true. Neon Nostrade suffered and died because of her father's debts, or didn't you know?"

Kurapika swallowed.

"And because of me, because I stole—" Chrollo clenched his fists. "I thought it was—the way things were." He lifted his face, and Kurapika started. Because wet streaks ran from his eyes. "I want to help you bury them. It's the least I can do, and—"

"Do you want to atone?"

Chrollo pressed his lips together. "I can't for that. Atonement is a strange concept... But—I want to try."

"And if I were to say no?"

"I'd probably help you anyways."

Kurapika pressed his hands to his face. "What if I said I wasn't going to get the eyes?"

"What?" Chrollo sounded shocked.

His palms slid down his face. Kurapika unlocked his cabin door, and Chrollo followed him inside.

"I'd rather just help them escape," said Kurapika, and then he wiped at his eyes. "If I risk it—it's too great a risk. If the eyes wind up buried at sea, at least they're buried."

Chrollo sighed. He turned away from Kurapika.

"What?" Kurapika mocked.

Chrollo turned to him, a wry smile on his lips. "You know, growing up in Meteor City—there was—we didn't have anyone to look up to. I didn't even know that was a thing, a concept, if you will, until I started reading. So I looked up to fictional characters, but they were fiction—" He pressed his fingertips together. "If I could be like anyone, I'd want to be like you. Minus the death wish."

 _Like... me?_ He focused on the death wish dig. It was easier. "You have one yourself!"

"You take it to another level," Chrollo countered.

Kurapika scowled at him. "You want to be a murderer?"

"So you're finally admitting that?"

Kurapika sank onto his bed. "I'm sorry."

"No," said Chrollo. "You can admit it, and still want to be better. I—it's fascinating. That's what got to me about Hisoka, how he kept striving. How he fought. A part of me's always—been fighting even though I know it's hopeless."

"Why is it hopeless?" The waves rocked the boat back and forth, forth and back. It was soothing.

"It's written, isn't it? Fate has—"

"You're just afraid," snapped Kurapika. "Afraid that you have choices, afraid that you matter. Because if you have choices, then you matter."

Chrollo stiffened. "You're no different."

"We're two hypocrites," Kurapika agreed. Silence elapsed.

"I texted them all," Chrollo said finally. "All my Troupe. I told them to listen to me. That we were leaving no matter what in the morning. Whether they listen or not, is up to them. I did specify it was their choice even though I'm the head."

"They will listen."

"I know," Chrollo said. He met Kurapika's eyes. "I can't let them die."

Kurapika nodded. A lump grew in his throat.

"You owe us nothing," said Chrollo. "I will help you find any remaining eyes. Free of charge. And I will let you go. You are not a member, and I will confess I lied to my troupe. I'm going to help Oito escape because of Phinks. You don't need to do anything more."

Shock seeped into Kurapika's bones. _You're_ — _human._

_Very human._

_Maybe I am, too?_ He didn't know if that made him want to crawl away and hide, or made him want to stand.

"You taught me that," said Chrollo. "That people are worth saving. Sometimes. So… thanks. I guess."

"How?" burst out Kurapika, dumbfounded. "How could—"

"I don't want to make the world any more unfair." Chrollo bit his lip. "I can't try to fight it like you do, but—in some ways I suppose—my friends—"

"I don't think that was me," whispered Kurapika, studying his hands. "I think that was Pakunoda."

"Both." Chrollo sighed, dropping down on the bed next to Kurapika. "What happened to her, happened, and I don't want to forget, but I don't want to remember her for who killed her. I want to remember her because of—she was—like a mother. Or a big sister."

Kurapika stared at him. _Help me._

_I want to be that free._

_I don't know how._

_You're setting me free, and I'm afraid._ _I don't know how to fly._

His hand landed on Chrollo's shoulder. It felt smaller and softer than he imagined, even under that grimy coat. "Thank you."

Chrollo's eyes widened. Kurapika felt awkward now. He lifted his hand away, folding his hands in his lap. His heart beat in his throat. _I'm not alone._ Everything was overturned, but he wasn't drowning.

"Can I try something?" Chrollo asked, voice soft.

"If it doesn't involve murder, sure." Kurapika tried to joke. His laugh fell away.

Chrollo's face hovered close to his. Very close. His eyes closed. His lips brushed Kurapika's.

 _I_ — _what?_

 _Me? You're kissing me?_ "Why?" managed Kurapika when Chrollo pulled back.

Chrollo snorted, rubbing his face as if he was embarrassed. Two red spots appeared in his cheeks. "I just—at least I'm not murdered."

 _You kissed_ me _. Me, who hurt you. You forgave me, and you kissed me_. "Why?" he rasped again.

Chrollo studied his knees. "I'm sorry. I—" He rose.

Kurapika grasped his wrist. Chrollo blinked. _"Why?"_ Kurapika demanded.

Chrollo dropped back down. And his eyes, dark umber, reflected Kurapika's own image.

_Hope._

_Why? Because you are_ — _a friend. Because you're here with me, and I_ — Kurapika reached out. His hand caressed Chrollo's jaw. "I forgive you. You don't have to—earn this."

Chrollo caught his breath. "I kissed you because—I wanted to kiss you."

 _You wanted to kiss me?_ "You have romantic feelings for me?"

Chrollo's jaw dropped. A laugh emerged. "Sorry." He pulled his hair back from his face. "I suppose. I do. Yes."

 _I never thought anyone would. I never thought I deserved_ — _or could hope_ —

_You._

_I'm scared. Don't let me fall._

"Don't pull your hair back," said Kurapika. "It looks stupid."

Chrollo held his hands up. "What—"

Kurapika leaned in. His lips plastered against Chrollo's. "I'm—" _I want to try. Fuck it, I want to try._

So complicated. So—no, not wrong. Maybe right or wrong was too complicated itself. Maybe this was what it felt like, to be found. To want to hide again, cower. To want to run ahead, laughing with abandon. A paradox, but at peace.

Chrollo opened Kurapika's mouth, cupping his jaw. His mouth pressed in, guiding Kurapika. He pulled back, palms pressed against Kurapika's cheeks, eyes wet.

_For me._

_I matter, to you?_

_I want—to be like you in this. I want to forgive, like this. I want to be willing to see again, like you._

"Chrollo," he managed. "Chrollo—Chrollo—" He reached up and yanked that stupid cloth covering the cross tattoo off. Kurapika knelt up, pressing his lips against the cross. He pushed Chrollo back onto the bed, Kurapika on top of him. He barely knew what he was doing, but he knew enough to pull Chrollo's coat off, toss it onto the floor, lift his shirt over his head and cover his pecs and soft, more vulnerable abdomen with his own mouth. Their mouths made sloppy, wet smacking sounds together. Heat coiled inside Kurapika. He hadn't felt like this ever. Emotions tumbling through him, tearing away the _should haves_ and _deserves_ and rules he always lived by. He dug his mouth into Chrollo's. It wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted all of—he'd always been like this, and never. He'd always wanted all, or nothing.

This was his base instincts. Like an animal.

No, this was so very human. Chrollo's fingers entwined in his hair, tugging. Kurapika feeling heavy, each breath deep and sharp.

Chrollo groaned, arching his back. Kurapika felt something jab into him.

 _Oh_. _You, too._ He realized his body was hardly any different, and Chrollo must have noticed.

But he didn't want to stop. He panted and pulled up, looking at Chrollo. His face reddened.

"Sorry not sorry," Chrollo said with a smirk. "I'm—you're attractive, and you're—"

Kurapika reached for Chrollo's belt.

"Are you—for real?" Chrollo managed. "I don't want you to feel rushed into—"

Kurapika snorted. "I—want to. I'm not the sort to just—experiment."

_Please don't let me down. I'm offering you me. If you want._

"Okay," Chrollo said, reaching up to run his fingers down Kurapika's neck. They lingered on his pulse. Kurapika's heart beat fast, and then Chrollo pressed his mouth against Kurapika's again, pace furious, driving deeper and deeper with a passion Kurpika had never imagined. Their breaths came messy gasps, undignified, no pretenses.

He pulled Chrollo's pants down, and Chrollo kicked off his boots. Damn, he had a nice body. Kurapika's hands went to his own suit, throwing off the jacket. The shirt came off next, and then he paused.

Chrollo noticed. He reached his hands out. "Want help?"

Kurapika moved closer, allowing Chrollo to undress him. He crawled onto the bed, pulling Chrollo over him. Chrollo's hands roved down Kurapika's hip bones and thighs like they were a piece of art. He kissed him, and Kurapika sucked in his breath.

"Do you trust me?" Chrollo asked, and Kurapika could only nod.

 _I do._ "Unbelievably," he managed, and Chrollo laughed.

"Hold onto me," Chrollo encouraged, voice low, and Kurapika did. Their bodies met, and Chrollo let out his breath. Kurapika tried to adjust to the sensations rushing through him. Chrollo's chest was damp against his, his eyes watching him. He didn't feel burdened; he felt light.

"Are we actually doing this?" Kurapika asked.

"Apparently," Chrollo panted. He froze. "Your eyes—"

"It's okay," said Kurapika. "I haven't—it's not automatic." And he didn't want to think about Emperor Time right now, not when he and Chrollo were literally joined together, and he felt something sizzling in his belly, in his spine, something that made him feel alive, like maybe, despite his own stupidity, this wasn't the end, like maybe he had something to look forward to, like maybe everything would be okay, like he mattered more than just a tribe, a name, eyes, the hurt he'd inflicted and the blows he'd dealt and been dealt.

Someone wanted him, and someone was here for him, in him.

_I'm happy._

Chrollo moaned into his neck, shaking, gasping his name. It rolled off his tongue. Kurapika dug his fingers into Chrollo, clenched his jaw, afraid to say anything because he wouldn't have control over his voice, not now.

Chrollo kissed him. He lifted himself off Kurapika.

Kurapika turned to him. He closed his eyes, expecting Chrollo to leave. Instead he felt an arm wrap around him, and Chrollo's breathing slow, running even.

_You're staying._

_You're sleeping here._

Kurapika rested his head against Chrollo's arm.

For a bit, he wanted to rest.

* * *

Killua crept through the ship, Gon and Alluka behind him. It was half past two in the morning, and he'd woken Alluka up for this. Gon and Killua hadn't been able to sleep.

_Kalluto, you better be okay._

Shadows twisted through the passageways, winding down the staircases in grotesque, elongated shapes that reminded Killua of decaying corpses. Alluka clutched the back of his shirt.

" _If we get into trouble I can't defeat," Killua told Gon. "Promise me. Take Alluka and run."_

" _Maybe Hisoka will come help," Gon offered._

Killua wasn't counting on it. Gon wasn't so interesting to the clown anymore, now that he was nenless.

_But I never liked you for your nen. You're my friend._

Whispers spread out from the hallway where the riot took place. Killua spotted a few drops of blood in the golden lamplight, splattering the floor not yet wiped clean. He stepped on it to keep Alluka and Gon from seeing it.

He rounded the corner. A small figure stood there, cloaked in shadows. "Kalluto?"


	12. Too Many Broken Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning again for suicidal thoughts this chapter.

He didn't want to do this anymore. Illumi wasn't going to kill him. And Hisoka wasn't going to let him. Because—

 _I want you to still live_.

Hisoka paused outside, listening to the light rain falling on the deck. Machi and Feitan's voices filled the air. Of course it would be the tiny pain demon with Machi. Maybe Hisoka could kill him before Machi killed Hisoka. At the very least, she might be fun to fight.

But he felt no excitement course through him as he lurked. All he felt was cold. The mist wilted his hair, stuck his clothes to him.

"Why does he want us to leave?" Machi was saying.

"Who knows," said Feitan, pausing at the rail. He peered down at the inky blackness.

"But if we don't kill Hisoka, he'll kill us," Machi persisted. "The Spider—"

 _Huh?_ Hisoka stiffened. Was she suggesting Chrollo had ordered them to leave the ship?

On the bright side, they were chatting about him.

"I never like Hisoka," Feitan groused.

_Well, I never liked you either._

"You said that from the beginning," Machi said. "Because he is an idiot who does what he wants and you are a man who does what he feels like he needs to do."

"Hmph," Feitan responded.

A door closed, the sound echoing in Hisoka's skull. He remembered a small room, a nen prison. A black door. He flicked a card. It slit his finger, blood dribbling onto his palm. He curled his fist.

"If Danchou wants us to go," said Feitan. "He must have reason. A good reason."

"I think he just doesn't want to lose anyone else," Machi said. "Things are kind of getting out of control on board. I think he wants—"

"Danchou no coward."

"Did I say he was?" Machi snapped.

"You said—"

"Why is it cowardice to protect something valuable to you?"

"It is," said Feitan. "Because then someone stronger come along and steal it."

Machi snorted. "You mean like us?"

Feitan shrugged. "We're thieves. It's what we do."

"No one's taking Danchou's position," Machi declared, gripping the railing.

"No," Feitan agreed. "No one. That, we agree on."

Such opposites. Machi, always driven by her heart and by what everyone she cared about—though she coated it in such a thick layer of salt and ice she'd never show it—told her. Feitan, who showed he cared by doing what he was asked, by winning, by being strong.

"Will you come?" asked Machi.

"Of course." Feitan spat out onto—well, it was probably a lower deck. "Danchou is the head. I listen to the head. I respect Danchou."

"Good." Machi blew out her breath. "If that clown survives this ship, I swear I'll kill him some other time."

"Did you sleep with him?" asked Feitan. "Ever?"

"What?" Machi shoved him. "No! I'd rather have boiled in oil. Suggest that again, and I'll break every bone in your body and make sure you can't ever make a girl happy again."

Hisoka almost laughed. What a shame.

"No fighting in the group," Feitan responded, wagging his finger at her. "Why so loyal to Danchou?"

"Hm?" Machi cocked her head. "Oh. Well, I suppose he gave all of us a purpose, didn't he? A place to belong besides just Meteor City. A way to be powerful."

"Mm," Feitan agreed. "Same."

"I miss Pakunoda," said Machi. Her hair whipped around her.

Feitan was quiet. "I do, too."

Both of them were devotion itself, but to a fault. Machi to a person, Feitan to an idea. Hisoka couldn't understand those concepts. He supposed he'd picked good substitutes for who should kill him. Devotion was one of Illumi's defining characteristics, as well. To his family, and to what they represented. Machi and Feitan could be like… half of Illumi each. Good enough.

Hisoka used to watch families a long time ago, probably before he was five. He didn't understand them. Half of them were devoted to each other because of the idea of family, of blood, and half because they actually loved each other. And he'd never felt anything of the sort. He remembered his mother—maybe, that is. If the woman he was thinking of was his mother, she punched him in the face and he ran away in a snowstorm. He would have barely been three. Then again he really wasn't sure. Maybe a madam? Maybe a stranger. Maybe he'd snuck in her home to get warm. Maybe she was homeless too, and fighting him for a place to sleep.

It was unnatural for him to think of the past, but before dying…

_Life isn't fun anymore._

_It isn't life. And it never has been._

Hisoka Morow, twice dead, never lived. The only times he felt alive were whiffs of it while fighting, and a taste of it when Illumi dug his hands through Hisoka's hair.

_Enough is enough._

He sent Bungee Gum at Machi.

"Hey!" Machi screamed, struggling. Feitan whirled. His umbrella of doom emerged.

"Surprise, surprise," Hisoka crooned, heading towards them. "You might get to accomplish what you want after all. But let's not make it too easy."

"Where's your fiancé?" Machi taunted, struggling to free herself from the Bungee Gum binding her to the railing. "Feitan!"

 _Kill me._ He and Feitan circled each other. Hisoka gave Machi ten minutes to free herself.

_Kill me, kill me, kill me!_

_I don't want to live. I only ever wanted to know what it meant to be alive_.

And he knew now. To be alive wasn't a heart beating, lungs inflating. It was tethers, strings connecting, sticking, you to other people. He thought of Gon, nenless, but with so many around him. He thought of Machi and Feitan and Chrollo's whole group.

Hisoka just always kept his ties flimsy, and cut them loose whenever they were no longer interesting, whenever severing someone served a purpose.

It seemed cruel that, if there was a god or if not, humans could be born and just float through, unwanted. Lost. Someone should hold out a hand to those people, instead of making them disappear behind black doors.

_Illumi…_

He wasn't going to cut that tie, so he would cut his own.

_I did live._

It wasn't this moment, fighting Feitan and a now-free Machi. It wasn't when fighting Chrollo, or when nen brought him back. His eye stung. Blood.

_I did live, when I was when I was with you._

Machi and Feitan both leaped, and then stopped. They staggered, eyes rolling around in their heads. Hisoka gaped. Blood poured from a gash in his forehead.

"That won't kill them," said  _his_  voice. "Just incapacitate them, but only for a few moments.  _Go_."

"What are you doing?" Hisoka bellowed.

Illumi reached out his hand. A needle struck Hisoka, directly in the neck. He blinked down at it.

Illumi's fingers stretched towards his forehead. " _Go_. Hisoka, run. Run away."

Hisoka took a step. His mind struggled. This wasn't—he needed to—but he was supposed to—finish—

"Don't worry," said Illumi. "I won't kill them. I am one of them, after all." His hair flew around him. " _Run_."

"Hey!" bellowed Feitan, ripping the needle out of his sternum. He turned and tore the needle from Machi's shoulder. She let out a shriek. Illumi threw himself in front of them.

Blocking them from reaching Hisoka.

_What?_

_You_ —

Run away, Illumi's voice echoed.  _Run away._

_Go._

His feet moved on their own, spurred on by Illumi's voice.

For the first time since he left Cathuria, Hisoka ran.

* * *

Killua hadn't realized how petrified he was until relief rolled through his muscles. He stumbled.

His brother blinked at him, mouth open in shock.

"Kalluto!" Killua doubled over, grasping his knees. "You're—okay!"

"Killua?" Kalluto shook his head. He stepped towards his brother, tentative. He halted. "Your friend. And—" His pink gaze hardened. His eyes were the same shape as Killua's, but a unique hue instead of blue like Killua's, Alluka's, and Father's, or black like Mother's, Milluki's, and Illumi's.

"I'm Gon Freecss," Gon said cheerfully. He waved. Alluka frowned, standing behind them.

"What is that thing doing here?" Kalluto demanded. The sound of water shushing the ship cast an eerie feel to the room where dozens died just hours earlier. It sounded like ghosts whispering a warning.

"Leave her alone!" shouted Gon, stepping towards Alluka.

"Don't insult her," said Killua, trying to shove fear away. "She's our sister."

"She's not. Nii-san says so."

"Illumi can take reality and shove it up his ass."

Kalluto's eyes glittered. "Mother and Father—"

"Do you even know her?" Killua demanded. "No, of course you don't, because Alluka was locked up for years while you got to run around scot-free!"  _Because you aren't the heir?_

_You'd be a better heir than I would be. Illumi would be. Milluki would be._

_I don't want to be the heir. I don't want to kill. Not at all. Never again._

"A fine job you're doing of running around, too, little brother," Killua added with a snort. "Joining the Phantom Troupe? They kidnapped us once, did you know that?"

"I heard." Kalluto stuck out his chin. There was no sign of any one else in the market area. Only shadows.

_Shush. Hush. Slush._

_Slap._

"We came here for you," managed Killua. "Someone—a friend—told us you were in over your head."

Kalluto's brow creased. "So you think I can't handle myself?" His voice trembled. "You think I'm weak? I'm not the one without nen!" His accusing finger found Gon.

 _Kalluto, stop acting like a brat!_  "Do not insult my friends again," Killua stated, voice cold.

Kalluto laughed. "You sound just like Dad when you act like that, you know, Nii-san?"

Killua stiffened. "I'm your older brother. Just—show some—we came here to help you, Kalluto."

"Help me how?" Kalluto demanded. "Help me kill Hisoka? That's why we're here, you know that, don't you?"

Killua bit his lip.

"I knew it!" Kalluto shouted. "I knew Hisoka was the one who warned—"

"He didn't!" Killua insisted. "It was Kurapika—"

"Oh, so that—"

"All of you, shut up!" bellowed Gon.

"Don't tell me what to do!" yelled Kalluto.

Alluka pressed her hands against her ears, shaking. Killua grabbed her.

"Shut  _up_!" Gon marched over to Kalluto. "We came here because someone told us you were in trouble and needed help. Isn't that proof enough Killua cares about you?"

"Did he come here to offer his help or to save me?" Kalluto retorted, glaring up at Gon.

"Whichever you needed," Killua said, voice husky. Gon was better at this than he was. He was so bad at it.

Alluka squeezed his hand, shoved him away from her, closer to Kalluto. Killua tried to swallow. "Kalluto, I—I've missed you." Sort of. Not really. But: "You're my brother." Nothing could change that fact. "I want to—whatever you need."

Kalluto's lip trembled.

_Holy shit, did I get through to him?_

"I miss you," Kalluto whispered. "A lot." He wiped at his eyes. "Alluka and I—we used to want to be like you. Before—before that thing came and took her away."

"Don't insult her," Killua said automatically. Kalluto glared.

"I'm sorry, Kalluto," whispered Alluka, and Kalluto's glare faded into confusion. "I know—we were close when we were younger, remember? I've missed you too." Her lips caved in. She sniffled. "I want to have you back. And I'm still here, me and Nanika both."

Kalluto swallowed. He looked up at Killua. "Will you—come home?"

Killua felt cold pool at the base of his spine. He shook his head. "I can't." He gestured. "I have—"

"Alluka." Kalluto's voice came bitter, brittle. "I get it."

"No, you don't," Killua insisted. "We—we make our own home, Kalluto. We'd love to have you."

_Slip. Lap._

_Swish._

Kalluto frowned. "But what about Illu-nii and Milluki? And Mom and Dad?"

"Illumi's a pill. He's our brother, but he's a pill," said Killua, and Kalluto actually giggled. "And—I can't go back, Kalluto. Not until I know that they won't lock Alluka and Nanika up again."

"You know Illumi's on board?" asked Kalluto.

Killua nodded. "How's that been? I'm surprised you're allowed to step out of the cabin without him." He wondered if Illumi put a needle in Kalluto's head. "Did he put one of his needles in you? Maybe they are tracking—"

"Oh, you mean like the one Dad told Illumi to put in your head?" Kalluto countered.

Gon gaped at Killua. His face flushed.

_Run away._

No. This was his littlest brother. He was standing his ground. "Dad?" But Dad told him he wasn't just an extension of himself… Dad let him go… Dad—

 _You_ liar.

 _You goddamned fucking liar! Was it all a lie? All of it? Am I just one of your arms? Why? Why? Why am I not Killua? Why am I no different to you than I am to Illumi? I just want to be a person, to be a person, just be a fucking person!_ He could scream it and they wouldn't hear, here because of distance, but if he were to warp back to Kukuroo Mountain and scream it they still wouldn't listen. They were like brick walls, testing gates for normal people.

_Hear me. Just hear me._

_Please fucking see me._

He realized he was crying when he felt Gon's arms around him.

"You're the heir," Kalluto insisted, breaths ragged. "You have to come back eventually—I just want—"

" _No,"_ Killua barked. "I'm not going back to that house, Kalluto."  _Not ever again_ , if he could help it. His fists tightened. He pushed Gon away. Alluka lowered her head, and he thought again how she, of all people, knew what it was like to be treated like an object, like you were no more than what you could do. "Kalluto—"

"Do you even still want me to come with you?" Kalluto's voice wavered.

Killua forced himself to swallow. "Of course—" And he did. He was just—it was humiliating, to be seen as a tool to be carved, sharpened, manipulated.

_Shush._

"Oh, I see you're early!" crowed a voice. Footsteps clacked against the wood, and the short, balding man strode into the room.

"Who are you?" bellowed Gon. Killua yanked out his yo-yos.

"Wait; he's my friend!" cried out Kalluto. "Cathuria—"

"Your friend?" yelped Killua. He narrowed his eyes. Was this man manipulating them too?

No. He did not like this man. He did not trust this man. Not one iota. Something stuck to the back of his neck.

"We were told someone abducted you!" Gon exclaimed. "I don't understand!"

"What?" Kalluto wrinkled his nose.

"One of the princes had your fan," Alluka piped up.

"Tserriednich? He's Cathuria's friend. But he's never had my fan." Kalluto pulled his fan out of his kimono, opening it. "See?"

Goosebumps spread down Killua's arms.

"That was an illusion, Killua," said Cathuria. "And I am sure Tserriednich never implied you was abducted. Oh, goodness, no."

"He's my friend," Kalluto repeated. "Cathuria's been helping me train."

" _I_  can help you train," Killua heard himself say.  _Why?_

"You weren't here," Cathuria stated. "But such a lovely offer, from a good big brother."

Gon glanced at Killua. The floor felt like it was tilting underneath him.

"Then train tonight with us," Kalluto suggested. His eyes lit up, and a smile softened his face. "That'd be fine, right, Cathuria? We only have a few hours to find Hisoka afterwards, then we have to leave—Chrollo—"

"Of course," said Cathuria. He lifted his hands. Black mist, like burned paper, consolidated into a door, a black door, hanging in the center of the room.

Hisoka's words wormed their way into Killua's head, and no matter what Cathuria said from here on out, how Kalluto denied, Killua knew something was very, very wrong.

"Let's go," Kalluto said, stepping towards the door. It opened soundlessly. Killua couldn't see what was inside.

"Kalluto, wait!" Killua burst out. "You can't—"

"Can't?" Kalluto turned to him, hands on his hips.

"Don't go through the black door," Killua blurted out. Cold sweat dotted his forehead. "Kalluto, we were warned by—"

" _Hisoka_ , am I right?" offered Cathuria. The man rubbed his chin. "He and I fought each other years back."

"I don't trust anything you say," Killua shot back.

"Hisoka?" yelped Kalluto. "Again with  _Hisoka?_  I'm going to kill him! The Phantom Troupe—we're supposed to; Chrollo said! And they like me!" He curled his fists, chest heaving. "The Phantom Troupe  _likes me!"_

"Kalluto, come over here right now," ordered Killua. "Get away from—we're leaving. We'll—"

"No! I'm not—Hisoka's just playing you!" shouted Kalluto.

"No, he isn't!" Killua shot back. "Who are you gonna trust? Me, or this man you just met?"

"But he's my friend!"

"He's not your friend!"

"You're just like Illumi now!" Kalluto screamed.

Killua shook his head. "It's different! Kalluto, we—" It was different! "Listen to me,  _please!"_

"You don't listen to me," Kalluto whispered.

Killua stiffened.

"You never have." Kalluto's voice wobbled. "Why not? Why didn't I matter to you? Even now, you're trying to get me to do what you want—you're not  _listening_ —"

"Kalluto, I—"

"I did all this for  _you!"_  screamed Kalluto. "You, Killua! How can you not realize everyone in this family wants to make you happy? Because we all still want a family—we want a place—you don't care! You're a traitor! You don't care about any of us except that little bitch, do you? I joined the Phantom Troupe for  _you!_ To get you back—to get my brother back—I thought if I was strong enough, you would—you might—"

Killua's stomach rollicked. He felt like he would vomit. "Kalluto, I never—if you wanted to make me happy, joining the Phantom Troupe—and I never asked for any of this—"

"I never asked for Nanika," whispered Alluka. "But we are together, and—"

"I  _hate_  you!" shrieked Kalluto, and a grin spread across Cathuria's face. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, Alluka, and I hate you, Killua!  _Why didn't you love me?_ Why don't you love  _me?"_ His face twisted into a grimace unlike one Killua had ever seen before, rage and despair cutting him apart.

"I  _do!"_  Killua yelled back. He charged at Kalluto.

Kalluto slung his fan through the air. Wind hurled Killua back. He aimed his yo-yos, but the force of the wind— " _Kalluto!"_

"It wasn't enough," Kalluto cried out. "No matter what I did, it wasn't enough—"

"You will be enough," Cathuria assured him.

Kalluto looked back at Killua. His eyes narrowed. "See you later,  _Nii-san_."

 _Wait, no!_  " _Kalluto!"_  Killua screamed.

The wind quieted as Kalluto pocketed his fan. Killua lunged.

But his brother stepped through the door.

It slammed shut, again, without a sound, and Killua heard a sound that he didn't recognize, but the pain in his throat told him it was ripping from his own voice box. A scream. A failure.

And when it shut it occured to Killua what he should have said:

_The Phantom Troupe like me!_

I  _like you!_

"Shame, Killua." Cathuria nodded at them. "My business here is done." He waved his hand, and the black door vanished into ash.

 _No. No, you don't!_  "Where is he?" snarled Killua. "Give him  _back!"_  Electricity shot from his fingertips. Gon and Alluka both charged at the man, but Cathuria ran like a fucking coward.

" _Give my brother back!"_

* * *

Hisoka stumbled all the way back towards the third tier before he managed to rip the needle out of his neck. Blood dribbled down his collarbone. His breaths came sharp, jagged. He pressed his palm against the wall. It was cold.

_Illumi…_

_What the fuck did you just do?_

_Why did you save me?_ It didn't make any sense. And unlike everything else that Hisoka liked that didn't make sense, it wasn't even amusing. It didn't shine a light on others and make him laugh. It made him want to crawl in a shadowed corner and hide.

And Hisoka never wanted to hide. Even as a child, he wanted to fight. No matter what. Those who gave up and groveled, the ones who slunk through the garbage-strewn streets—they weren't long for the world.

He fought to live, and he fought to die.

 _It should have been me. Why did you_ _—why did you_ _—Illumi_ —

Life wasn't fair. It never was. He knew that from his earliest memories.

He didn't like that unfairness swallowing Illumi. Not Illumi. He needed him.

_Come back._

He wasn't supposed to want things he couldn't fight to get.

But he would fight for Illumi.

Hisoka spun on his heels. He didn't know—he couldn't—

He arrived back on the deck and skidded to a stop. "Fuck!"

They were gone. All of them. But there was no blood. Hisoka gulped. If he could find Kurapika—

" _Hisoka!"_ screamed a voice.

He whirled. Gon Freecss charged towards him, Killua and Alluka on his heels. All of them were crying.

"Kalluto—went—through the door!" bawled Gon. He grabbed Hisoka's hand, shaking him. "We need—"

 _He what?_ "I warned you not to let him!" Hisoka snapped.

"Please," managed Gon, staring up at him. "Please."

There was no hope. No way to get Kalluto back, unless—unless—

If he couldn't save Illumi, he could save what Illumi loved more than anything.

His brothers.


	13. A Twisted Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for depressive thoughts this chapter.

A tinny melody drifted through his dreams. Soft grass under his feet gave way to a coarse blanket over him, and an arm slung across him. Kurapika blinked.

"Shit," grumbled Chrollo, fumbling for his phone. "Hello?" He sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Kurapika reached for his own phone. It was just around three in the morning. No messages.

"Calm down, Machi," Chrollo said into the phone, and Kurapika heaved a sigh of relief. So nothing was wrong with Oito.

Embarrassment flushed through him. _What have I done?_ He curled his legs up towards his chest. He just had sex with a man who murdered children Kurapika used to play with. Who tortured them. And who Woble loved, and whom Kurapika understood, now.

_But I am a monster, too._

"I'm on my way." Chrollo hung up and hopped out of bed. He turned back to Kurapika, slipping his pants on. "Something's—up with my friends. We'll be back by morning."

 _To leave. With us_. Kurapika nodded.

Chrollo hesitated, as if he wanted to ask him something else, but couldn't quite eke the words out. He left, shutting the door silently. His coat stayed at the foot of the bed.

Kurapika's head lolled to the side. He was not going back to sleep, that he knew. He bit his wrist. _What have I done?_

He hated what Chrollo had done, and nothing he did could ever make up for that. Even if Kurapika was a murderer himself. _Does it make me a worse person for forgiving? For grasping the little happiness I can?_

_How could this make me happy, if I am not inherently deficient?_

_We keep moving on. If we stop crawling, if we retreat, we turn into pillars. We rot in the sun. We die._

He just wanted someone to know how disgusting he was, the putrid parts of himself he tried to cover, the parts he would prefer to die than have known, and still tell him he was worth it. And Chrollo knew, and he liked that. He liked Chrollo.

_You are_ _—killing Hisoka right now, aren't you?_

_If you kill him, Chrollo, you kill me._ And he did not want that to happen, because he—wanted to live. And he wanted Chrollo to live.

 _I'm going to stop you_. Kurapika sat up. He could use his dowsing chain to find Chrollo—

His door flung open, smacking the wall. Kurapika yelped, yanking the blanket up to cover himself.

"So you sleep in the buff. It really is the best way to sleep," commented Hisoka.

"The fuck?" screamed Kurapika. "What are you doing here?"

Hisoka's eyes slid to the coat and then back to Kurapika. _Oh, fuck._

"Kurapika!" shouted two voices behind the clown. Killua and Gon both burst in, crying. _Crying_. And Alluka too. "We need help."

 _What the hell is going on?_ "Can I get dressed?" Kurapika managed. "Get into the bathroom for like two minutes, okay?" So Chrollo wasn't off to kill Hisoka...

"Why are you naked?" demanded Gon.

"Don't ask that!" Kurapika's face felt like it was burning off. At least it was still dark in the cabin. He fumbled into his clothes and stuffed Chrollo's coat under the covers. "Okay now."

They filed back out, Hisoka looking as if he wished he could be amused, but something dark simmered behind his gaze.

Killua wiped at his eyes. "My brother's been kidnapped, and we need your dowsing chain to find the man who did it." He clenched his fists. Alluka looked up at him. "And then we'll get him back."

 _Huh?_ "Why not just ask Alluka?" asked Kurapika.

"Because I am not going to use my sister like that," Killua snapped, and Alluka's scowl looked as if she was more than a little put out because of that, but she was keeping quiet. "And also, she needs to rest up for transporting us all tomorrow—and I don't think I can keep Alluka and Gon safe and save Kalluto, even with Hisoka's help. I need—you, Kurapika."

Kurapika swallowed. _You need me._

His friends. Losing Kalluto—he thought of all the children he knew back in the Kurta tribe. No matter what Kalluto had done, he didn't deserve to be kidnapped.

But the dowsing chain pretty clearly indicated Kalluto was not on the ship.

"How?" yelped Killua.

"It's a warp gate," said Hisoka, watching the chain stay still. "Must be."

"Then find the man who kidnapped him," Killua said.

"Before we go," Hisoka interjected. "May I give a recommendation? Wear your goddamn contacts, or don't go all scarlet eyes, Kurapika. He's a greedy man and wouldn't hesitate to pluck those out of your skull."

 _I'm going to need Emperor Time._ Kurapika grabbed his container of contacts, slipping them into his eyes without even needing a mirror.

Using Emperor Time now came with guilt.

* * *

"I already told you. I have no intention of running away," Illumi stated. "That should have been obvious when I came with you willingly, Feitan, Machi."

Chrollo blinked, staring at the man who sat on the floor in a cabin Franklin had been using. Feitan, Machi, Bonolenov, and Shizuku were all present as well, every one of them clearly furious that their newest member had blown everything.

"In the end, you are just another Hisoka," snapped Feitan.

Illumi rested his chin on his knees. He closed his eyes.

"Why?" asked Chrollo. His heart pounded. Nausea bubbled inside him. Hisoka had—and Illumi—

_We are very serious about this._

A lie? Or something had happened to change that? Chrollo stuffed his hands into his pockets. He missed his coat. He could still smell Kurapika on himself.

"It does not matter." Illumi didn't open his eyes.

It did matter. And Chrollo knew why. "Illumi…"

"If you plan to kill me," said Illumi. "Please at least do not take it out on Kalluto."

"I have no such plans," said Chrollo. "And I wouldn't. Kalluto's innocent." Speaking of which, where was that kid? Machi said she texted every member and all the others had come, save Phinks and Nobunaga who needed to stay with Oito.

Illumi finally looked at him. He arched an eyebrow. "If you intend to use me as a hostage, I—"

"You chose _Hisoka_ ," spat Machi. _"Why?"_

"Didn't you choose Chrollo?" asked Illumi. "Anyways, I don't much mind dying. I've betrayed everything I was ever raised to do. I can never look my parents in their faces again." He tightened his grip around his legs, folding himself up. "I am not a good assassin anymore. I am not a Zoldyck. I failed them."

"They sound like shit parents," commented Franklin.

Illumi's eyes popped. "Don't you—"

 _He's trying to get you to fight, you dolt_. Chrollo tapped his foot. "So the assassin fell in love with the one he was bound to kill. The plot of many a romance novel."

Illumi stiffened. "I am not so—"

"Why?" demanded Chrollo again, and he wasn't certain whom he was asking. Machi and Feitan exchanged a glance. Shizuku cocked her head. "What did he offer you? Money? A place to belong? Or did he just see you, or did you think he was another extension of you that you couldn't bear to kill, or—"

"On the contrary," Illumi muttered. "He—" He clamped his mouth shut.

"Or through him," said Chrollo slowly. "You saw yourself more clearly. And you saw hope for yourself, because you wanted hope for him."

Illumi's head snapped up. He met Chrollo's gaze and glowered.

_I don't want to die._

_I don't want it to be written._

_I deserve to die._

But Kurapika still kissed him, still embraced him. _You were chasing me, but you were the one leading me all along_. Chrollo lowered his chin.

"Danchou?" asked Machi.

"Do you still want to be a Spider, Illumi?" Chrollo asked. He crouched down.

"This," Illumi informed him. "Is exactly how you lose members of your crew. You will never learn, will you?"

"Are you actively threatening us?" Chrollo asked.

"Clearly not, if I'm here and not pulling out my needles. But sooner or later everyone betrays, or is betrayed."

"Danchou hasn't betrayed us," said Machi.

 _Oh, but I have._ Chrollo met Machi's eyes. "What would you say my working with the Chain Bastard is?" Never mind actually sleeping with him. "Nobunaga…" He should have spoken to the man. He should have cared about his feelings. Uvogin was his dearest friend. And Shalnark…

Machi swallowed.

"I'd still like you to be a Spider," said Chrollo. "Whether or not you can go back home again. Even if you can't be a Zoldyck. We're from Meteor City. We collect the people thrown away."

* * *

"I can't use Judgement Chain on him, because he isn't a Phantom Troupe member," Kurapika reminded them as they stood outside a cabin door. God, he was such a failure. He cringed. Was his power completely useless now? He spent all this time, sacrificed so much, and now he was going to bed with Chrollo Lucilfer. His power was pointless in the end.

Hisoka mumbled something that sounded like " _so that's how he likes it"_ and Kurapika kicked him in the knee.

"Bungee Gum," Gon said, looking to Hisoka, who nodded. Alluka huddled in the background, looking angrier and angrier.

Kurapika kicked the door open. The cabin was sparse, but Cathuria whirled around in the center, a phone in his hand. "I'll talk to you later, Tserr—"

Kurapika aimed his chains. A distraction. Bungee Gum slammed him into the wall. The phone clattered to the floor. Kurapika activated Stealth Dolphin.

"What the hell?" rasped Cathuria. "Finally come back for revenge, Hisoka?"

Hisoka plastered Bungee Gum over his mouth. "I don't feel like listening to you." Killua, Gon, and Alluka followed into the room, clinging to each other.

 _Who is this man to you, Hisoka?_ Kurapika didn't have time to question. He waited for Stealth Dolphin to detail this man's power. He was a Specialist, clearly.

"The Black Door is a conjured warp gate to a place in Yorknew." Kurapika did not want to think about Yorknew and the ghosts there right now. "Inner Demons is a power that will sap the energy of anyone imprisoned there by amplifying whatever emotion they feel most, making it impossible to escape."

Cathuria's beady eyes landed on Kurapika.

"Thank you for the information," said Kurapika. "Oh, I wasn't talking to you, asshole. I was talking to the dolphin."

Cathuria looked confused. Good. Hisoka snorted.

"There's no such thing as impossible," said Killua. "My dad taught me that." He looked to Kurapika. "We're going, right?"

Kurapika nodded. "I can use his ability now, but only once." Only to get through that gate, and hopefully get back.

"Don't dawdle, if you do," said Hisoka. "I'll stay here to keep this dickhead from moving. Gon can't go; without nen you'll get trapped easily."

Gon scowled.

"Fine," said Killua. "Gon, protect Alluka. I know you can do it." He gave his friend a smile.

Kurapika conjured the door. It opened without a sound, and he couldn't see what was beyond. He had to keep Emperor Time activated to be able to leave, that he knew, and he needed it because that energy surging in him—he was going to need all of it.

"Don't get fucking lost," warned Hisoka.

"Why do you even care?" snapped Kurapika.

"I may or may not owe their brother for something," Hisoka retorted. "A life for a life."

Kurapika swallowed. _A life for a life._

Giving, saving. Not taking.

Maybe life was not so easily traded. He turned to Killua. Killua nodded at him. They stood on the threshold. Kurapika reached out instinctively, and he realized Killua had reached out too, taking his hand like Pairo used to when they were wandering the forests at dusk, and Pairo couldn't see through the dimming light.

_Pairo, those times I led you… I was afraid too._

_I've never liked the dark. And I was afraid I'd do it badly, and you'd fall._

_If you are still there, a ghost, in heaven, part of the universe, lend me your strength._

He stepped forward, Killua with him.

An inky blackness shoved itself into his lungs, choking him. He felt like he was drowning. Killua's grip kept him centered. Kurapika slowly became aware of something solid under his feet. A floor. Concrete.

His eyes adjusted. The room was bathed in mist. A corridor, with cell-like doors lining the edge. Kurapika took a step towards them.

 _Pairo_ _—Pairo_ _—I lost you_ —

_Pairo, I slept with your killer. Pairo, don't you hate me? I would. I always have, since you were hurt. I hate me.  
_

It wasn't anger surging within him. It was despair. Hopelessness chopped at his bones, hacking him apart, breaking him. He staggered forward. He had to save Kalluto.

Why? What was the point? Kalluto would die eventually anyways. And he was a murderer. Murderers didn't deserve to be rescued. And murderers like himself didn't deserve to rescue.

Killua let out a whimper. His eyes darted around. His breath came sharp, harsh, like he was terrified beyond belief. If he kept hyperventilating like that, he'd pass out, and then it would all be futile, of course it would be—

"Kalluto," eked out Killua.

His brother. He wanted to—even if it was hopeless—

" _Even if you aren't able to find a cure," said Pairo, lying under a huge oak tree and letting a dragonfly rest on his hand. "It's okay, you know. We can still travel, see things. You can describe them well. You'll be my eyes."_

Even if. Even if. Kurapika pushed himself forward, now practically dragging Killua who was threatening to curl up on himself. He pounded on one of the doors. _Someone answer!_

They wouldn't. This place was hopeless. They were dumb to try.

"Kalluto," choked out Killua.

Kurapika yanked out his dowsing chain. _Where are you?_

It sung towards the doors on the left. The door had a simple bolt on it, one that could, in theory, be broken, if you were strong like Uvo. But Uvo was dead, because Kurapika killed him, and buried him.

He was still warm when Kurapika rolled him into that grave.

_Get lost, fool._

_I am lost._

No one would want to open that door. Kurapika wasn't even sure he knew the point. It felt like his brain was dissolving.

"I just wanted—" Killua choked out. He dropped to his knees, grip sliding out of Kurapika's. He rocked back and forth, teeth chattering, eyes vacant. "Don't leave me. I want to—matter—"

_Kalluto matters._

Kurapika yanked open the deadbolt. A small boy slumped against the wall, eyes closed. Kurapika stumbled towards him.

_He's gone. We're too late. We're always too late, and I'm wasting more of my life for this._

He remembered Chrollo poking him, and Kurapika pressed two fingers to Kalluto's throat. A pulse beat again his fingertips. _He's alive._

Kurapika grabbed Kalluto, heaving the boy over his shoulder. He felt so heavy. He staggered out of the room, grabbing Killua with his other arm. He almost tripped. Of course.

There was no point to keeping striving, was there?

There was no point to having ever tried.

He was this. He was a skeleton encased in flesh, and they were all going to die eventually. Why bother. Why even keep breathing, when it hurt so much, when every breath felt like fire burning lungs already rubbed raw?

He couldn't even cry. He didn't deserve to.

Killua flicked a yo-yo.

When he was younger, he wanted to steal one for Pairo, but it wasn't right. Pairo told him that, grasping him when he went to do it.

Kurapika dragged himself forward. He hurled Kalluto through the door. Then he dragged Killua towards the edge.

A hand reached in.

He didn't—

 _Pairo_ —

He remembered his friend reaching for him, the cliff below them. A scream, bubbling from his lips.

He grabbed the hand, flesh clasping flesh, and it dragged him out and into the cabin. The door dissolved behind him. Kurapika gagged, slumped on the ground. Gon let go of Kurapika and shook a barely-conscious Killua. Alluka held an unconscious Kalluto. They were all okay. The clammy chill of that corridor clung to Kurapika. He felt sicker than he'd ever felt in his life.

"Finally," said Cathuria, and the next thing Kurapika knew Hisoka was thrown across the room, head smacking the wall. His eyes rolled back into his head.

_What?_

"Stop!" shouted Alluka, but Cathuria grabbed her by the throat.

"No!" screamed Kurapika. It came out a baby's cry. He tried to push himself to his feet on shaking legs. He only made it to his knees before retching. His chains surged anyways, knocking Alluka away from Cathuria's grip. She gasped, landing on her hands and knees.

"A lovely plan," said Cathuria. "But I'm afraid you underestimate my strength. Should have kept that ability stolen."

Kurapika glared up at him. _Get up. Get up._ His legs wouldn't work, but he would fight—even if he couldn't win. Even if. Because he looked at Gon, nenless, and Killua, dazed, and Killua's siblings—he had to. He pushed himself to his feet. His legs felt as if his muscles had turned to jelly.

"Oh please," commented Cathuria. "There's no point to that. You see, Hisoka is stronger after dying, but I've died three times, and come back. I'm going to win if we fight, and if you escaped, I'd hunt you down easily."

"I don't care," Kurapika stated. His voice shook.

"A child trained so thoroughly in assassination can be valuable," said Cathuria. "Especially when they're pretty. It's tempting to take the heir, but that'd be too much trouble from the Zoldycks, and, well, the sister has too many drawbacks to her powers and no special skills. No one will miss the youngest son." He reached down, lifting Kalluto off the ground. "Hisoka's half-dead, and you're nenless, Gon Freecss, useless really, and you're talented but not special, Kurapika."

"Don't—call Gon useless," Killua managed, pushing himself to all fours. "And Kalluto—isn't—I care—"

"Too late." Cathuria winked. "It's time I headed back to Yorknew." Kalluto's limp form dangled as he opened the door.

"No!" Kurapika readied his chains. He could barely stand, and Cathuria laughed.

 _I can't lose another friend. I can't let a friend go through this_ _—not protecting the ones they should have_ _—the ones they ignored_ _—this is_ —

He was in Yorknew again, running with Melody, rain pelting him and all the while knowing Gon and Killua gave themselves up because of him.

Because of _him_. Because of his stupidity.

_Come back._

_I don't want to lose anyone else!_

_He's a member of the Phantom Troupe! He's a kid! And I just slept with the boss of the Phantom Troupe!_

The eyes, in his hands. Fakes. Copies. A copy made by someone who was also now dead, bought for someone who was also now dead.

It had always been his fire. He lunged, chains whirling. They struck Cathuria on the face, tearing. Blood splattered. Kurapika used another chain to knock Kalluto out of the bastard's arms. Gon joined him, grabbing Kalluto. Killua staggered to his feet, gagging as he reached for his brother.

Cathuria flung himself at Kalluto. Kurapika threw himself between them. If he used Chain Jail... but he did not want to die. Not now, with Chrollo's warmth still lingering. Cathuria's hands closed around Kurapika's throat, choking. Kurapika gagged. He thrashed. Something thin fell onto his cheek.

A contact.

He looked straight at the man. Confusion. And something else. Greed.

He knew, didn't he? His worth always came down to this gene, this curse. He managed a smirk. Cathuria's pressure lessened. Kurapika knocked his arms away. Panting, he glared. His fingers found his eyes. He brushed out the other contact. Both fell to the floor. His eyes glowed scarlet.

"The fuck?" moaned Hisoka, coming to.

"Get them out of here," Kurapika told the clown, not even looking at him. _"Get them out!"_

"Kurapika, stop!" shouted Gon. He lunged.

Kurapika shoved Gon back. He looked to Kalluto. _A life for a life._ He felt as if he was about to collapse. His legs wobbled. _"Hisoka, do it!"_

Cathuria reached for Kalluto again. Killua grabbed his brother, yanking him out of the way, and Hisoka grabbed Gon under one arm and Alluka under the other. He raised his arms for Bungee Gum. To fight for them. Fury welled up inside Kurapika. _Arrogant prick! They'll die!  
_

_It's hopeless._

They couldn't win. Not with Killua, himself, Alluka, Hisoka, and Kalluto all injured.

Kurapika threw his chains at Hisoka, who let out a yell and ducked, shielding Gon. The door to the cabin was hanging open, and Kurapika's chain snagged Hisoka's nen ankle, hurling him out. Kurapika threw Killua and Kalluto out next.

"Kurapika, _stop!"_ Gon bellowed.

"Don't you—fucking—" Killua gasped.

Kurapika's chains sliced Cathuria's arms. He slammed the door shut. He slid the lock, trapping himself in this room with this monster. _Me. Me, instead._

And he doubled over, without even the energy to cry. He couldn't lift his head. Everything felt as if it was spinning.

_I'm a traitor._

_I'm betraying you, Pairo, and I'm so sorry._

_But you wouldn't want to let a child suffer that place._

_I deserve it. But I still don't want it._

Cathuria lowered himself in front of Kurapika. "How sad. It's not extraordinary, you know, despite what you might fancy, to sacrifice yourself for another. Though I daresay they weren't the ones you wanted to sacrifice yourself for." He reached out, cupping Kurapika's face. His fingers traced his sockets. "You're no Zoldyck, but you'll do nicely."

 _Fuck._ Kurapika swallowed.

_I don't want to go!_

_Help me, I'm scared!_

_Come back! Someone, anyone, save me!_

No one was coming.

Cathuria grabbed him by the waist and yanked Kurapika back into the cold corridor, and this time the door closed behind them.

* * *

Illumi didn't understand. Why was Chrollo not taking his head? Feitan looked as if he would like nothing more, but Chrollo seemed to have stopped it, because—because why? He barely knew Illumi. He couldn't think that Illumi was worth anything, or would ever help him when it meant risking Hisoka's life.

Kalluto would never forgive him. Illumi wished he were back at Kukuroo Mountain. No, then Dad would scream at him, hit him, and it was never enough. No matter how Illumi served him.

_I just want you to tell me you're proud of me._

Well, he wasn't, and now Kalluto would hate him forever too. _Killua_ _—Killua_ _—you're here too, on this ship, and you hate me. Why? Why does everyone hate me? What did I do wrong?_

Had he ever told Kalluto he was proud of him? Illumi was sure he'd said _good job_ a few times.

But it wasn't about what Kalluto, Killua, Milluki could do.

_I like you because you're my siblings._

_And because of you, I wasn't alone anymore._ Even Milluki—even Milluki—

Killua made him understand love. And Illumi would do anything to keep it, but—

It wasn't enough.

Well, then, Illumi must simply be unworthy of it.

"Please kill me, and tell my brothers I love them," Illumi requested.

Chrollo's jaw dropped.

"You are an idiot and you and Hisoka deserve each other," Machi snapped.

"They would be better off," Illumi shot back. _And you. And you all would be_ _—_ "I cannot be with you as long as you are going after Hisoka, and I cannot—"

"If you have a problem with it, you could say so," said Chrollo. He pushed his hair back from his face with a sigh.

"I do not understand," said Illumi with a frown. "I joined _because_ of your grudge against Hisoka. Without it—"

"I can't," said Chrollo, a tinny laugh emerging. "I can't—not anymore."

"Danchou?" demanded Machi.

Chrollo hunched his shoulders.

 _Why not?_ Illumi didn't understand.

The door to their room burst open. Feitan aimed his umbrella. Shizuku, her vacuum.

And Illumi gaped.

Killua stood there, shadows under his eyes, skin pale and sweaty, legs barely holding him up. And his gaze was lasered onto _him_. "Illumi—we need—all of you—Kalluto was kidnapped—now—we need help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry haha! The story is about to get--well, both more hopeful, but also a lot darker from here on out.


	14. What Should Have Been

"Illu-nii, I _need_ you!" Killua kept repeating, hysterical. He marched over to his brother, grasping his arm, tugging. "Nii-san!"

Illumi tried to force himself to process what was happening. Killua had come for him. Killua. For him. He was asking for him. And Killua was yelling about Kalluto and crying. "Kil?" _You're really here._

"We need to go," Killua kept repeating, hiccuping. "Please listen to me, Illu-nii!"

"What are you talking about?" Machi demanded. "Something happened to Kalluto?"

Killua nodded. "He was kidnapped, but we got him back, and then he took my friend in exchange!"

"Kalluto hurt?" asked Feitan, marching over to Killua. A dark look overcame his face. He yanked his scarf up, covering his snarl.

"I don't know. He's not conscious."

Illumi shook his head. _Kalluto's been kidnapped._ He got to his feet, trying to process.

_I would choose the Zoldycks._

_I do._

Illumi swallowed. "Who took him?" He was going to slowly take that person apart, one limb at a time, skin from muscle from tendon from bone. _I knew I should have taken better care of Kalluto!_

"We're meeting in Oito's chambers," said Killua. "Phinks told us where you all were." He gestured with his free hand. "If you've ever cared about me as your brother, please, Illumi—"

_Ever cared?_

_I only ever cared..._

_About myself_. A sick feeling sloshed through Illumi's abdomen.

"I'm going to save my friend with or without you, but I thought because Kalluto was involved—" Killua bit his lip.

"I'm coming," said Illumi. "Let's go." Maybe Killua would love him, for this. And—friends couldn't be all bad, right? Chrollo was actually offering him a chance. But he was a fool for that, right? Wasn't he? Wasn't he?

"We're coming," said Chrollo. "We were all going to—get out of here anyways."

Killua didn't protest. That meant he must know that he was no match for—whatever had happened. But he thought _Illumi_ was. Illumi's heart lifted.

They all filed into a room befitting Kakin royalty, albeit a lesser queen. Illumi spotted her, clutching her baby to her chest, standing above a couch where Gon and Alluka clutched each other and cried, and— _Hisoka_ sat there, a cold cloth pressed against what looked like a gnarly head injury.

"Hisoka!" bellowed Franklin. He aimed his finger guns.

"Illumi!" yelled Hisoka. Illumi couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to say or do. Chrollo's words resounded in his mind.

_So the assassin fell in love with the clown…_

_Am I really so cliché?_

_You wouldn't be interested in that, and I let you down. I betrayed you. And I'm not sorry._

"Stop, all of you, or I will have you all arrested!" shouted Oito, jumping in front of Hisoka. To Illumi's shock, Alluka and Gon joined her, all of them holding their arms in front of Hisoka. He looked green. "Your games with people's lives are over, or you forfeit your own lives. There are no questions about that, do you understand me?"

"Franklin, put them down," Nobunaga, of all people, requested. Phinks's eyes were wide in shock, and Illumi saw him take a tentative step towards Oito.

_If you had to choose, which would you choose? The Phantom Troupe? Or this queen you're supposed to be protecting?_

And Alluka— _Alluka_ —Killua left Illumi's side and rushed over to her. In the back corner, Illumi spotted Biscuit Krueger, that ninja Hunter—Hanzo—Leorio, Melody, and Cheadle.

"Where is Kurapika?" Chrollo asked, voice cold.

"They took him," Killua choked out.

"Excuse me?" Chrollo demanded. "They took—"

"He gave himself up to a man called Cathuria for Kalluto, in exchange for letting him go—" Killua clutched his head. "That aura was horrible, worse than Pitou's—"

"Someone back the fuck up please," requested Machi. "Are you telling me all of this is over the Chain Bastard? He's been abducted?"

"Well, Kalluto was abducted first," snapped Gon. "Or don't you people care? Isn't he one of you? He's barely—"

"Where is my brother?" demanded Illumi. His eyes searched the room.

"He's asleep," said Oito. Chrollo was standing there, face the color of curdled milk, stunned for some reason Illumi couldn't comprehend.

"He was not hurt, to the best of my knowledge," Leorio said. "He needs to sleep this off. He's a child." Leorio clenched his fists, glaring at each and every member of the Phantom Troupe. "A child, younger than Gon and Killua—and you—"

"Not hurt?" demanded Feitan. "You let him be captured?" He glared at Illumi. "Where?"

"He's in my bedroom," Oito said, gesturing, and Feitan stormed into it. Illumi followed.

Kalluto lay asleep in a soft bed, hair strewn on the pillow around him. He was trained to sleep lightly, to wake when a single floorboard creaked. But he didn't stir. And Illumi was glad.

 _You're safe. No one is going to hurt you here._ Illumi reached for his brother, brushing his hair back from his face. A lump formed in his throat. _Kalluto_...

"If he is your brother," said Feitan, voice bitter. "And you love him, treat him like it."

Shame pressed into Illumi's shoulders.

"He said you all—praised him," said Killua's voice from the doorway.

 _And none of_ us _did. No one in our family did, just for him being Kalluto._

Hisoka's words from earlier pounded into Illumi's mind. _To your parents, you're just a spare._

He'd only ever treated Kalluto like that.

 _I'll do better. I have to do better_. Illumi left his brother to sleep.

"Now I know he alive," Feitan said, marching back out. "So why do we care Chain Bastard's gotten himself in over his head again?"

"He gave himself up for a member of your troupe; does that mean nothing to you?" snapped Gon.

Chrollo covered his face.

"He killed my friend!" Feitan objected. "Two of them!"

Oito blanched. She glanced at Phinks, who lowered his gaze. "I'm going to—help," Phinks muttered.

"Why?" asked Machi.

"Because," said Phinks. "I care about her. And she cares about him." He jerked his thumb towards Oito. The baby against her chest stirred.

"Why don't you say something, Chrollo?" Hisoka's voice split the air.

Illumi's heart pounded. He looked at the man he'd gotten engaged to. Until death. Hisoka's death, the thing he realized he couldn't handle. The man who broke him and made him whole. He'd given his own life and everything for Hisoka, and he couldn't regret it.

"I think you have something to say that might change the tone of your little troupe," Hisoka said bitterly. "Or am I wrong?"

Chrollo glared, but he was crying too. Tears streamed down his face.

"People like you make me sick," continued Hisoka. "You're a coward. You're afraid of being by yourself, but you're afraid of being known. Afraid your group will leave you now, if you're honest with them? Well, time to face up, Chrollo Lucilfer. You're a man, or do you fancy yourself a god?"

"Insult Danchou again and I will take your head," Machi spat.

"We're waiting, Chrollo," Hisoka said, ignoring her. "Time to find out what you're made of."

"Not Bungee Gum," Machi muttered. Alluka looked up at Hisoka, eyes wide.

Chrollo looked like a fly wrapped in a spider's web. His eyes darted from member to member, even Illumi. In the end, he focused on Nobunaga. He swallowed. "I spent the night—until Machi called—with Kurapika." He clenched his fists.

"You what?" demanded Nobunaga.

"Talking?" asked Shizuku.

"No," Chrollo said, and then Leorio dropped a glass onto the floor. It shattered. "He's not just vengeance and bitterness. He's someone—he's—I—I care about him." His voice came ragged.

 _And so two enemies sworn to kill each other came together instead. What a cliché_ , Illumi thought. But instead of saying it back to Chrollo, he felt only something soft inside.

"He keeps trying to kill himself," mumbled Chrollo. "But his life matters—I—when Paku came to save me, Machi, Nobunaga, you know I thought she'd bring everyone? I thought I would die and I didn't care because the Spider would live on—because you all would—but she—" He grabbed a vase and hurled it onto the floor. "I'm not losing someone else because they decided to think about someone else!"

"He only think of himself," commented Feitan.

"I don't care!"

"Can you not break Oito's things?" requested Phinks. "That was porcelain. Expensive." He said that as if it were an afterthought.

Chrollo gripped his skull. "When we killed the Kurtas for their eyes, we were wrong. We were wrong. I led you wrong. Uvogin, Paku, Shalnark, Kortopi—they're on my head as much as on Kurapika's, or Hisoka's. I'm—sorry."

Silence echoed.

"I don't care about Chain Bastard," said Feitan. "But I care about Danchou." He looked up at Machi, who blinked.

"He's not a member," Chrollo said. "I was lying. I wanted—I—"

"We _know_ ," said Machi. "That was obvious."

Shizuku let out a whistle. "We thought you had your reasons, but that wasn't it, Danchou."

They were all still there, and Illumi thought about the hand Chrollo offered him less than an hour ago. _I'll take it. I'll stay. This_ _—this family_ —

He met Hisoka's gaze.

"We can't kill Hisoka," said Chrollo. "Not after—forgiving Kurapika. At least, I can't."

Hisoka flinched. Illumi spotted Alluka looking at him, afraid. Of him. Because he'd tried to kill her once.

It was all empty. All these wars, these contests— _because all we ever wanted was to connect._ And while Illumi did not care about Kurapika, Killua called him his friend, and Killua came to Illumi for help, and-after Hisoka, he had no right to protest.

There were threads connecting them all. Royalty, hunters, the possessed, bodyguards, thieves, almost all of them murderers, friends, parents, siblings.

"How do we save him?" Chrollo asked, voice desperate. "He's better than me. He's better than us. He gave himself for Kalluto even though we killed his family! He did it for Killua." His voice was shattered, unhinged. "Because he's his friend. And he did it for me."

"Arrogant," mumbled Leorio. Cheadle gripped his shoulder.

"It's true," Chrollo said. He let out a yell, stomping his feet, looking for something to punch, something to break. Machi grabbed his wrists. "It's my fault! _It's my fault!"_ His hair hung over his cheeks, clinging to the skin. His mouth twisted, crumpled in a cry he was trying to suppress. "And I don't even know who did it!"

Oito raised her eyebrows at the tantrum.

"We will kill him," Illumi said, and Chrollo met his gaze. He remembered Chrollo offering him a place as a spider. If Illumi had an older brother, maybe he would offer him a place with the Zoldycks no matter what, like Chrollo had just done with his troupe. But he had no such brother. But he was a Spider. _And we will kill this man._

"His name is Cathuria," said Killua. "He has two powers: a conjured Black Door that connects to a prison-like area in Yorknew, and Inner Demons, which—feels like you're suffocating, and like you're living out every single fear all at once. It was like being eaten alive and being driven mad inside there. That guards the prison. And he's back in Yorknew now." He explained what had gone on with Kurapika. "Hisoka?"

"He's an unpleasant man," Hisoka said, tossing cards up in the air and shuffling them. He seemed to be avoiding looking at anyone. "He takes people and he sells them to people looking for slaves, for living treasures, for people looking to replace lost loved ones, prostitutes, for doctors looking for humans to conduct inhumane experiments on."

Illumi felt sick. Thank God they'd rescued Kalluto unharmed. He would—he would kill—

"And how do you know this man?" demanded Machi. "Did you work for him?"

"Hardly. He caught me when I was about eight or nine. I think. I escaped before he could sell me in an auction. To my knowledge, I'm the only one who ever escaped."

Illumi hardly expected that. Hisoka continued to play with his cards.

"So," said Chrollo. "You can help us."

"Indeed." Hisoka jabbed a long-nailed finger at Chrollo. "But for Illumi's life. You forget what he did for me, and you let him—"

 _Me? Mine?_ Illumi's eyes bugged out. "Hisoka—"

"His life is his," said Chrollo. "I have no intention of taking revenge on him."

Hisoka still wouldn't look at him, but Illumi slumped to the floor.

* * *

He took Kurapika.

Because of his eyes. They didn't even have to state that for Chrollo to know it. They took him for his eyes, and because Kurapika still, _still_ , even after—he still wanted to die. Chrollo clutched his coat, tugging it tighter around himself. It wasn't cold, but he needed the security. He stole the coat from a shop the first time he and his friends left Meteor City. He thought how flamboyant it looked, and he wanted it, and he took it. It was his, a symbol of the better life he was destined to have. Picking it up from Kurapika's room, realizing Kurapika had hidden it—he wanted to ask him. He wanted to talk to him.

"Cathuria was talking on the phone to Tserriednich," said Gon, sniffling.

"I see," stated Feitan. He turned and stalked out.

"We'll take care of it," Chrollo said.

"The best time to rescue him would be at an auction," said Hisoka. "Not even you, Lucilfer, could get through that place intact."

"Are you saying I'm weaker than you?" Chrollo snapped.

"Without your troupe, yes," Hisoka answered. "Unless you plan on borrowing their nen again, but I wouldn't recommend it. It won't help you there and if you were afraid of what I can do, you have no concept of Cathuria."

"He said he died three times," said Alluka. "Is that true?"

Hisoka shrugged. "I didn't exactly keep tabs on him."

"Why an auction?" asked Chrollo. Leorio sat down on the couch, using the Hunter website to pull up whatever information he could.

"Because that's where I escaped," Hisoka informed him. "If Kurapika still has his sanity, that's where he'd make a move too."

Chrollo let out his breath. "Is there any way to get a message to him?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Fuck," said Leorio, pushing his computer away from him with a groan. "I can't get anything on an auction."

"Not surprising," Hisoka said. "Not even the mafia would offer their protection for this."

"I presume you attended," Nobunaga said snidely. "Seems like it'd be up your alley."

"Never," Hisoka said. "But I could always kill one or two overconfident idiots there."

"I'm sorry, Leorio," whispered Gon.

"Huh?" Leorio blinked. "It's not your fault, Gon. Nor Killua's, nor Alluka's." His finger landed on Chrollo. "It's his."

Chrollo's jaw dropped. "Is twisting the knife your specialty?"

Even Hisoka looked surprised. He leaned forward, rubbing his fake chin. Illumi had disappeared inside to check on Kalluto again.

"The eyes," said Leorio, his breaths coming short and sharp. "I knew people were greedy, I knew it from the moment my friend died because no one could afford the medicine. But you take it to a whole new level. Greedy for body parts? Greedy for people? The only difference between you and this Cathuria character, Chrollo, is that you and your minions killed them first and Cathuria let Kurapika live. I'm not sure which is worse. You tortured children, all to get the eyes—was it enough for you? When will it be enough for you? The reason people like Cathuria exist in this world is because of _greedy sons of bitches like you!"_

Cheadle grabbed Leorio's shoulder. Chrollo gaped. His mouth opened and closed, like a dying fish. He had no words. Cathuria was not Hisoka. Cathuria was him, but a part of him poisoning the rest of him, and the world with it, a Rose like the one the Chairman had set off.

"Do you even care about Kurapika?" yelled Leorio. "Or do you just care that Cathuria took something you consider to be yours? Did you care about him, or did you find it funny to play with an emotionally vulnerable man?" His voice cracked. He wiped at his eyes. "You can go to hell, you selfish, selfish bastard. Don't be surprised I don't trust you. I doubt you even know, with how scrambled your mind is."

"Danchou truly does care about us," Shizuku put in.

Chrollo could hardly focus. His mind echoed and echoed with Leorio's words.

It was Oito's voice that brought him back to earth. "You _what?"_

He turned. Phinks looked ashen.

"You did what to children?" Oito croaked. "You—" She shook her head. "You—"

"According the the newspaper articles on the slaughter of the Kurta clan," said Leorio, voice bitter. "The children showed signs of having been tortured, presumably to bring out an even more vivid hues in their parents' eyes before they were killed in front of them and their parents beheaded."

 _Fuck_.

The truth was, Chrollo didn't remember.

The truth was, he knew he would have done it.

In Meteor City, it was the children who suffered most, because if they were kept by their parents, they were vulnerabilities. Chrollo remembered. He was a vulnerability for his mother.

Maybe when she let him go, she did it because loved him.

Maybe she never did. He would never know. A simple "sorry, we were wrong" could never erase what they'd done.

A slap cracked through the air. Phinks's face slung to the side.

Oito's chest heaved. "You disgust me."

Phinks covered his face. He couldn't even look at her. He looked to Chrollo, as if he could bail him out, and he couldn't.

"You're no different than Morena Prudo," Hisoka said. "I'm one to talk, but at least I'm a loner." He pointed to Chrollo.

"How?" demanded Oito. "How can you look me in the eye and play with Woble when you—when you—" Woble woke. She wailed. "If I had scarlet eyes," Oito breathed. "And had lived there, that little province I ever heard of because no one knew and no one cared, they weren't important but they were—people who loved their children, mothers and fathers—you would have killed me too."

"No!" Phinks burst out.

"Yes," Chrollo said. Leorio turned to him. Melody brought out her flute, raising it to her lips.

"But you weren't there," Chrollo managed. "All I want to do is—save Kurapika. You're right, Leorio, I'm a—bad person. I don't know what I think or why I want to, but I know I do, okay? And Queen Oito—" Meeting her eyes felt like dipping himself into the fire. He cringed. "You're right. You're so right. We—deserve to—suffer worser fates for it. But my troupe only did it because I liked the eyes. If you have to punish someone, allow me to save Kurapika, and then punish me. I meant it when I said I led everyone wrong. It was me."

Oito's jaw dropped. Woble shrieked. The queen patted the baby's back. "They made their own choices."

"She's right," Phinks said quietly.

 _Shut up, idiot!_ "We—were fools," said Chrollo. "I didn't—I didn't realize until—Shalnark and Kortopi were gone. Meeting Kurapika, talking to him—it opened my eyes." He was light, leading him, and even if he could never hope to bask in it, because he was born in Meteor City, Chrollo at least wanted to die reaching for it. "Meeting you opened Phinks's eyes, I'd say."

There was a page he was afraid to flip back to. Chrollo felt as if his shoulders would snap from the tension. "It was when we lost Pakunoda. Before then, I thought—it was about strength."

_She sacrificed herself for me. Not even for my life. So I wouldn't be alone._

_It wasn't for the Spider, not intrinsically._

_It was for me._

A memory crossed his mind. Himself, a little boy, bald, trotting along Meteor City's garbage-strewn street, the putrid stench in his nostrils. A tangerine sun simmered the air, and Pakunoda walked up ahead.

" _Wait up," he called, and she turned, and she smiled._

_Thank you, Onee-chan._

Chrollo covered his mouth. His shoulders shook. He turned and stalked out of the room. He found his way to Tserriednich's room, following Machi and Shizuku's instructions for the code.

He found Theta and the other butlers tied up, and no sign of a spirit beast. Feitan had Tserriednich strapped to a chair, and he had no fingernails.

"He wouldn't talk?" Chrollo asked.

"No, he talked," said Feitan. "This is for what he put Machi and Shizuku through."

Chrollo stiffened.

"I didn't—hurt them," Tserriednich managed. "I couldn't even—get it out—before they attacked—"

"You would have though, and that's enough." Feitan slapped him across the face. Blood ran down Tserriednich's face.

"Stop," Chrollo said.

Feitan turned to him. "Flip a coin."

"No coins," said Chrollo. "Not this time. Stop, Feitan, stop, please."

"Do you think you're king now?"

"No," said Chrollo. "I think you're a friend, and I want you to stop, and I'll try to physically make you stop if you don't." He hung his head. "I've already betrayed the Spiders, Feitan, I—you all—you should be leading the Spiders, not me."

Feitan froze, blood staining his hands. "I never want to lead. Except when you gone."

"I know," said Chrollo, stepping closer. Please put it down. He thought of Oito's face. Phinks. Kurapika. Leorio. Kalluto. Machi. "I don't want you to do anything you might regret. We have the information, right?"

"Auction in five days," Feitan said. "But no location, he doesn't know, or he would have said."

_Why do you fight so hard?_

_You want to protect. And you want revenge._

_Not on them. Not on him. On yourself, for Uvogin's death, for not being able to stop Kurapika, for letting Machi and Shizuku into a situation that could go wrong._

_You, like Hisoka, fight to live._

Well, Chrollo wanted him to live regardless. _You could be weaker, and I would still want you._

_So would Machi._

"Please, Feitan."

Feitan hesitated. "Can I leave him tied up?"

"Absolutely."

"You still leader," Feitan added gruffly as they left. "Even if not perfect, you lead."

Chrollo turned to him. They all trusted him so much, and for the first time, he didn't feel entitled to it, as if it was his fate. It felt like a gift. He nodded.

_You can mess up. It won't mean you don't belong anymore. If you fail, I still want you._

_If the Spider changes because of that, changes its legacy and purpose, well._

_We'll still be alive._


	15. Broken Things Made Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a discussion of child abuse and sexual assault.

Illumi spotted Alluka peeking through the door to the room where Kalluto lay sleeping, Illumi sitting with him. She darted away before he could say anything to her. Not that he would know what to say. He was the worst kind of hypocrite. And Hisoka still hadn't come to talk to him.

Kalluto stirred. He jerked up, blinking rapidly.

"You're okay!" Illumi said in relief.

"What's—where—"

"You were rescued," said Illumi. "By Hisoka, Killua, Gon, and Kurapika."

Kalluto's nose wrinkled. " _Hisoka?"_ He gripped his head. "I—I don't—if you lecture me I'll—"

Illumi recoiled. "I don't—" He wouldn't. But clearly his brother didn't trust him, nor want him around.

Kalluto glanced around the room. "Where _am_ I?"

"Queen Oito's chambers," said Illumi. "We're all—" He stopped himself. He didn't know what to say, whether Kalluto even knew what had happened to Kurapika, whether he had any memories of what happened. If he did, he would be a valuable resource for sure. Illumi rose and walked towards the door. "I'm glad you're okay."

"No, you aren't," said Kalluto, bitter. "You're glad you were right, because that's the only thing that ever makes you close to happy."

It wasn't true. You _make me happy. All of you_.

But they hated him. Kalluto despised him, Milluki didn't care, Alluka was afraid of him, and Killua—Killua went to him for help. Because Illumi was useful.

_It's all I know how to be._

He pushed the door open. "Leorio, Cheadle, my brother is awake." They would know better what to do. Shame filled Illumi's stomach. He had no idea. He was useless.

Sure enough, Killua grabbed Gon and Alluka, and then rushed past Illumi, towards the bedroom. Oito followed.

_Ask me to join you?_

_Please?_

No one called to him. It was probably for the best. Illumi looked to Machi, who scowled at him. "I'm going to rest." Oito had offered them keys to several unused cabins. Maybe after sleep, he would be useful. He wished he had Mike here to bury his face in again, like when he was a child.

Machi nodded, pouring over the web pages with Shizuku. She looked up at Illumi. "He'll come around, you know. He's your brother."

Illumi swallowed. "I haven't—treated him very respectfully."

Machi snorted. "Yeah, we noticed. But at least he has a family. None of us have."

"You do now," Illumi pointed out.

"Maybe," Machi agreed. "Because Danchou lets each of us be ourselves."

Illumi wasn't sure if he liked himself enough to want to be himself. He gave a quick nod and slipped out.

"Coward," commented Hisoka's voice.

 _Really?_ Illumi glared at him as he headed towards the row of cabins. "What are you talking about?"

"What are you so afraid of?" Hisoka asked. "You're less afraid of dying than you are of sitting in a room full of people who may not want you there and may not like you?"

Illumi unlocked the door. Hisoka followed him inside the tiny room with only a bed and one small light affixed to the ceiling. "I'm not afraid of dying if it means I can live on in someone who loved me."

"For what, revenge? Maybe the people would prefer to live on with you, Illumi, if you stopped trying to control them for like—" Hisoka stopped. "Are you accusing me of loving you?"

"I don't know," Illumi answered honestly. He sat cross-legged on the bed. "I really don't know, Hisoka. All I know is that I didn't want you to die. Maybe take your own advice. Maybe I wanted to live with you, but you said yourself that's not possible, at one point one of us would—so—"

Hisoka eased himself down next to Illumi. He sighed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Think twice before you offer your life for a dead man's next time, though," Hisoka said sharply.

Illumi cocked his head. His hair spilled down his back. "Are you saying you value my life?"

"I'm saying you should value yours."

"Well," Illumi said. "I like yours."

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Hisoka asked with a laugh.

"No," Illumi answered. The water rocked the ship gently. "I'm trying to get to know you."

"What do you want, Illumi?" Hisoka asked.

 _I want to matter. To my loved ones. And you_ _—you want to matter to yourself_. Illumi leaned in. He pressed his lips against Hisoka's. He'd felt so angry when he saw Hisoka actually trying to die, and all he knew was that he'd do anything, anything, to get him to stop, because—because— "I don't regret it. And I won't."

"I thought you weren't trying to seduce me."

"I changed my mind." Or maybe he knew that this was Hisoka's rhythm, a way to talk to him, and he wanted to open that door. He pushed Hisoka down, flat on his back. "I'll do what I did for you again if you try to die again. And again. And again. Until it kills me."

"That's not healthy, Illumi."

"Then don't put me in that position," Illumi said, lacing his fingers with Hisoka's, pinning them beside his head. Hisoka gaped up at him. "Please."

"Why?" demanded Hisoka. His eyes drifted away, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to look at Illumi, and somehow Illumi realized it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with Hisoka.

_Because I don't want to lose you._

_Because you matter to me._

_Because with you, I feel like there's something I can do, like I have something, like I'm worth something. Like I'm here not just as a tool._

_You make me feel alive._

Illumi delved down to plaster his lips against Hisoka's. Hisoka opened his mouth, kissing Illumi in a whole new way. He wasn't holding back, wasn't keeping up some kind of facade. They were clothed but they were naked. Hisoka dug his hands through Illumi's hair, nails scratching his scalp, kisses desperate, wild, driven by need. Illumi covered Hisoka's face with his lips, his neck, his chest. He wrapped his arms around Hisoka.

"Illumi—"

"Do you want me to stop?" Illumi asked, resting his chin on Hisoka's pecs.

Hisoka shook his head. "No." He tore Illumi's shirt off.

 _It's you. It can only be you_. "Don't die," Illumi rasped. "You better not fucking—die—Hisoka." They were naked now, clothes in semi-torn puddles on the floor. Illumi gripped Hisoka's cheekbones, forcing him to look at him. "Don't die."

"Okay, okay," Hisoka said. "As far as it's up to me, I won't, okay?" He swallowed, and his fingers brushed Illumi's jaw, traced his eyebrows as if he saw Illumi as—not a tool.

Something to be cherished.

"Okay," managed Illumi. He better mean it. _Please_.

They'd never done it like this before, with Illumi in control, and he wanted to be careful. He didn't want to hurt Hisoka. What a strange feeling. But it was inevitable, wasn't it? At least some pain, initially, but not to last.

As long as people were together, they hurt each other, intentionally or accidentally. But they were still together. For all the bruises Hisoka left him with, Illumi didn't regret any of them, because he knew Hisoka understood them, and he didn't want to hurt him, not like that. He trusted Illumi in his own way.

_I won't hurt you. Not intentionally. Not any more._

_I could never kill you. I wanted to kill myself._

_I want to live with you._

Waves of elation rolled through him, and Illumi panted, dropping his head onto Hisoka's chest. And Hisoka didn't push him away. He held him there.

"I won't kill you," Illumi murmured. "Not ever."

Hisoka was quiet. "I know."

* * *

This was strange.

Hisoka lay between sleep and wakefulness, Illumi next to him, bodies entangled, and he could almost imagine his limbs being whole again. He wished they were.

Illumi stirred, and almost instantly woke up completely. "We probably shouldn't loiter here very long, with everyone planning the rescue." He sat up, hair sticking to his arms and chest. He tugged it back, away from his face.

Dammit. Why couldn't Illumi just lie still for a moment, enjoy something for once in his life? So much for getting to know him. Hisoka sighed, pushing himself up and leaning back against the wall. "Why are you helping?" he asked. "I thought you'd be happy Killua's friends were offing themselves. You don't even have to do it, this way."

Illumi frowned. He looked down at the thin quilt, pinching the fabric between his fingers as if it was made of needles. But a quilt couldn't stab him. "I want him to love me. Still." He looked at Hisoka. "Is that okay?"

Hisoka didn't know what to say. He'd never had siblings that he knew of. "If you want to do it, sure."

"I think I pushed him away," Illumi said. "Instead of being the person he loved most, I became—someone he resented because I—I wasn't thinking about loving him. I was thinking of getting him to love me. And I want to try, because—it's probably hopeless."

"Probably," Hisoka agreed.

"But I have to try," Illumi said. "This is what he wants. His friends, safe. He loves them." His voice trembled. "Even if not me."

"You know, you're an idiot," said Hisoka. "If there's one thing my life has taught me, it's that the more people love, the more love they have to give. That includes physically, of course, as I only get better. Or so I've heard."

"Shall I kill your former lovers?" asked Illumi.

Hisoka frowned. "Are you trying to joke?"

Illumi nodded. "Was that not sufficient?"

"It was terrible, but I do like terrible jokes." Hisoka snorted. Illumi laughed, and Hisoka wondered when was the last time, if ever, he just sat around laughing with someone. "But for real, Illumi. Killua loving his friends means he can love you more. If you let him. If that's not severed yet."

Illumi's eyes lit up. God, Hisoka liked how he looked like this, with an almost innocent aura to him, hair mussed, a bruise on his neck.

"So let's get Kurapika back," Hisoka said. "And then also I can hold it over Chrollo's head for as long as I live."

Illumi snickered. And then he frowned. "Why are _you_ helping?"

 _Ah, fuck._ "Because you are."

"No," said Illumi. "You have only ever gone after one person for a personal grudge, and that is Chrollo."

"It was for fun."

"Don't lie," said Illumi, ripping away a layer from Hisoka. Hisoka pressed his palms down, into the blanket. "You are petty, Hisoka. You are angry he beat you, because you feel like it stripped away your reason for living. So why are you angry at Cathuria? It's a personal grudge, isn't it?"

Hisoka rolled his eyes. He lifted his arm, tucking it behind his neck. "Not exactly. He went after your brother. I knew from the moment I saw him he would. So yes, it's personal." _It was about you._

"I don't believe you," Illumi said, and Hisoka caught his breath.

So much for Illumi being dense. Or maybe he was just blind when it came to himself. Hisoka was one to talk about that.

"What did he do to you?" asked Illumi. Because he wanted to know. He wanted all of Hisoka, not just the parts Hisoka would willingly offer, didn't he?

"Like I said. He captured me. I don't know what for. I killed three of the auction workers there on my way out." Hisoka frowned. "At least, three for sure. Possibly more." He closed his eyes. "I didn't like his cage. That place he keeps people—it's hell."

"How?" asked Illumi.

"It was empty," Hisoka said. That was what he remembered. Darkness, and no warmth, no cold, nothing of the sort. Just nothingness. To this day he had no idea where that place was located in Yorknew. There was nothing for him to do except sit there, lie there, stand there, and think and daydream about slaughtering whomever he could to get out, breathing fresh air again, doing whatever he wanted again. Finding something to enjoy, again.

But after awhile, it was impossible to remember anything at all except the gnawing emptiness.

Hisoka watched Illumi muse, tapping his chin. "Thinking about your times in the Zoldyck dungeon?"

"Mm," Illumi said. "At least, after the first few times, I knew they would end. I told my brothers it wouldn't last forever. It was for their good."

"Congratulations on breaking them."

Illumi scowled. "He didn't torture you?"

"Being locked up in that place was like torture." Hisoka wished he had his cards to toss up, but they were with his clothes on the floor. If he pressed the side of his face against the wall, he could hear the water flowing around the ship, sailing to a new continent, unexplored.

"The only time I ever accepted help, it was from him," said Hisoka finally.

Illumi said nothing. His breaths came in and out, calm and orderly. He kept his gaze fixed on Hisoka.

"I fought one of his friends, or colleagues. That was how you survived, by the way. You fought and you won, or you died. Or got the shit kicked out of you, at any rate." Hisoka run his hand through his hair. "Anyways, I kicked three boys around and sent them running away with their tails between their legs, but he saw and I guess he thought I was interesting. So he offered me a chance to fight and win food. I was hungry." Hisoka blew out his breath. "I lost."

"And he kidnapped you?"

"Not at first. He…" Hisoka's voice trailed off. "I really don't need to say it, do I? It was hardly the first time. I don't even remember. And then I stabbed another friend who was with him and cut his throat and he thought I was interesting, and I walked through that door and found myself in a prison."

"Hisoka," Illumi said softly.

"Don't feel sorry for me. At the very least, there was something that felt good, at least physically, in all of it." Hisoka snorted. "Anyways, it wasn't nearly as stimulating as simply killing those bastards at the auction. That felt much better."

Illumi swallowed.

"What?" Hisoka asked, irritated. "At least I wasn't chained and whipped by my own parents. Can't imagine any fun in that." Hisoka snorted. "He told me that was all I was good for, and I decided I was good for making his life hell when I felt like it, but also that I was going to enjoy my life instead of being a miserable asshole like him."

"When we save Kurapika," said Illumi. "I will kill this man."

_Stop acting like it matters!_

"And I will ask Feitan for tips on how to make it hurt," Illumi continued.

"It doesn't matter," Hisoka repeated. "I'm here now, and you're here."

Illumi cupped Hisoka's face in his hands, gripping his cheekbones. Hisoka let out a sigh.

_If it matters to you, I matter to you._

He didn't understand that concept. Not one iota. He never thought he would matter in the least. He blinked. "Can I kill him instead?"

"Yes," Illumi agreed.

* * *

"I fucked up," Killua said, staring at the door behind which Kalluto was talking to the Phantom Troupe because he'd rather be with them than with his brothers.

Kalluto had so many more choices than Alluka. And yet. And yet, no one saw him, or heard him. Not Killua, not Mother, not Illumi. He thought Kalluto was fine with Mother's love.

But he was still the favorite, wasn't he? Kalluto had only ever been trying to live up to—no, not to him. He'd given up on that, hadn't he? Instead he tried to become someone Killua loved. Alluka.

_And I still left him there._

"So?" asked Gon. "I mean, I messed up with fighting Pitou." He rested his chin on top if his knee, huddled on Oito's sofa. "You're still my friend. I still love you. If you talk to Kalluto, I'm sure he'll still love you. And besides, you can't just say you're not brothers anymore."

You really could, but Killua didn't feel like correcting Gon on that aspect.

"Why didn't I notice him?" Killua wondered aloud. "Was it because Kalluto lurked? Or did my parents turn me into a narcissistic brat?" A tear dripped down his chin. "I never wanted to be the heir, or the favorite." Though, he supposed, he never would know what it was like not to be.

"No," Gon said. "But if you were, so what? I'd still be here." He kicked his legs out. "I can't—with my father, I'd have given anything to make him love me. I gave everything, and it still wasn't enough. I still don't get why. But—when I—I was only thinking of myself, and of him, and wanting to be—worth it—and I—"

"That's not your fault, stupid," Killua snapped.

"Well, it's not yours either!"

"You two need to be kinder to yourselves," interrupted Leorio. Killua craned his neck, looking up at him. "It's not either of yours faults. It's up to your parents, and no offense, but I personally would love to punch Ging again and Silva and Kikyo once."

"My dad would take your arm," Killua informed him. "Unfortunately."

Leorio shrugged. "Still would be worth it."

 _I don't want to be strong,_ Killua thought. If he could go back and take it all away, he would. Alluka could be free, then, maybe. Illumi might not be so controlling; Milluki, less afraid, and Kalluto, free too.

_I just want to belong to someone, and have people who are with me._

_I want to be loved._

"I don't want to be Illumi," Killua choked out.

"I don't want to be Hisoka," Gon said.

"You're not."

"I killed. I'm a murderer—Pitou—Kite—"

"That wasn't your fault!"

"It was, too!" Gon wrapped his arms around his knees. "And I'm still—still Ging—"

_But I love you! You're my friend—you're—you're—_

Still light.

Even with what he knew now, even after seeing him broken. He was light, and he was tangible too, and Killua loved him.

_Isn't that enough?_

_I don't know how to say that, though._

_I am a failure as a brother and a friend._

_No! I don't want to be! I don't want to be Illumi!_

The door to Kalluto's room opened. The Phantom Troupe filed out, and Oito ducked inside. Killua rose and followed her.

Oito made Kalluto a cup of weak tea with honey and cream. Killua sat in the corner, unsure of what to do or say.

He hadn't been hurt. Just locked up. And from what he said, the scars of that might be hurt, but in a different way. That place… that place… Killua shuddered at the memory. It was hopeless, a place swarming with a million fears that all gobbled him up, and their saliva felt like fire.

He wondered if Alluka ever felt like that, when she was locked up. Did she wonder why Killua no longer visited her?

"Hey Alluka," said Leorio. "Care to help me with something? You too, Gon."

 _When did you grow up?_ Killua peered up at Leorio as he winked, leading Gon and Alluka out of the room so that Killua and Kalluto could be alone.

Kalluto sipped his tea, avoiding looking at him. "You can just say it."

"Huh?" Killua frowned.

" _I told you so."_ Kalluto scrunched up his face. "Go ahead."

 _I mean, I did._ But he didn't want to say it. He only wanted to say what he wanted to say then. "I'm glad you're okay. I was scared—"

Kalluto gulped more tea. "Why?" His eyes were pink and tearful.

"Because," said Killua. "You're my brother. We fight but you're still—I still love you. You're my brother, and I like you."

Kalluto let out a laugh, cynical. Killua jumped. "You don't even know me."

"Well, I like most of what I know, except the bitchy attitude and your choice of friends," snapped Killua. Fuck, that wasn't the right thing to say. "Well, if they're your friends, I can tolerate them. I guess. And I'd like to get to know you more." He swallowed. "I love you, and I love Alluka, and you're _both_ my siblings."

"I want you to like _Kalluto_ ," whispered his brother.

Killua hesitated, and then walked over to his brother. He sat down and wrapped his arms around him. "I do."

Kalluto wilted, crying into Killua's shoulder. "Don't tell Mom and Dad," he requested.

 _I'm not sure how to keep it a_ _—oh_. Just about the crying. Killua nodded.

Kalluto's lips trembled. "I'm sorry about your friend. Did he—did he really do it for me?"

Killua nodded again. "We're going to get him back. It'll be okay, Kalluto." He hoped. He stroked Kalluto's hair like Illumi used to do to comfort him. _I won't hurt you. I won't be like Illumi, not anymore._

_But Illumi..._

If Illumi was truly helping... Killua was afraid to hope.

"Well," said Kalluto, leaning forward. "I have an idea. I heard Phinks and Shizuku talking and we'll need passes to get into the auction and there's no easy way to get those. And money. Who do we know who's good at hacking and good at borrowing money?"

 _Wow._ Killua actually smiled. "Time to call our shitty aniki."


	16. An Impossible Price

Chrollo sat with his head in his hands. The ocean sparkled in the sunlight around them, like a giant sapphire prison he couldn't escape from. Alluka was going to transport them all to Yorknew as soon as they had all the information they needed. But Chrollo didn't know if it would be in time.

_Kurapika…_

He remembered his taunts about just how far Kurapika would go for his goals. And he gave that up. Just like Paku had given up everything because—because— _you don't even know Kalluto, Kurapika! He's one of us._

_You care about Killua, and he loves his brother._

_And it was the right thing to do._

He had scoffed at Kurapika's hypocritical justice. But in the end, he sacrificed himself to save someone Chrollo cared about, too.  _You're so much better of a person than me._

_And I want to be like you._

"Chrollo?"

He craned his neck, looking up at Melody's soft smile. She carried her flute. Leorio stood by the railing. "Anything new?"

"Yes," said Melody. "Killua and Kalluto bribed their brother to get a loan from their father and hack into the system to create a pass for the auction. The money will pay for the pass."

"I don't like leaving him there for that many days," Chrollo said, resting his chin on his kneecaps. Leorio gave him a glare.

"No one does," Melody said. "But we have to think. We don't want to rush in and lose more than we gain. Kurapika would never forgive himself."

Chrollo snorted. "Why is he like that?"

Melody smiled at him.

"Do you really care?" demanded Leorio.

"Huh?"

"Or is Kurapika just another object to you, something you can have, a pair of living scarlet eyes and—" Leorio dragged his hand through his hair. "I swear to—"

"He's not!" Chrollo burst out.

"Why would I trust you?" Leorio yelled. "If that auction offers you something you want, won't you take it, you greedy son of a bitch? You have no morals. You killed children, tortured them!"

 _I know, I know, shut up!_  "I didn't want or like it—"

"Who gives a fuck?  _You still did it!_ " Leorio grabbed Chrollo by the collar of his coat, the coat he'd retrieved from Kurapika's room and tossed at Chrollo. "You did it, and you hurt Kurapika in ways he can never recover from, and you—you—"

"He can," Chrollo managed. "He  _can."_

He refused to believe otherwise. He refused to believe that was written. He would erase it if it was. Kurapika  _deserved_  his goddamn happy ending. No matter what Chrollo had to sacrifice for it. He'd disappear if Kurapika wanted him to.

_I'd give anything to atone._

Chrollo slumped, and Leorio released him. He dropped to his knees, palms up. Tears slid down his cheeks.

_I want to give him his family back. I can't._

He could never handle the unfairness of it all. The rain pelting him, cold, in Meteor City, the rotten apple cores he picked worms off of, the times he had friends who then disappeared as traffickers took advantage or when they lost a fight. And he had been powerless to stop any of it. Powerless to change anything except his own life, and his troupe, and they could grasp whatever they could. Together they at least had some power to wield.

_I can't change it._

_I can't change any part of this world._

No. He could change a corner, for Kurapika.

If there was a God, he asked for strength. Chrollo felt Melody's hand on his shoulder and he cried harder, because he did not deserve this compassion.

"Save your self-pity," said Leorio in disgust.

Chrollo couldn't even fault him. He squinted up at him. "We're going to—rescuing Kurapika is the priority. But we're going to break that auction system down."

"God, is that your solution?" shouted Leorio. "Massacring more people?"

"Who are we killing now?" Feitan asked, meandering out onto the deck.

"No one!" Chrollo shouted. He wiped at his eyes. "We're going to break all of those people being sold out. After we save Kurapika." He was going to be selfish. He was always selfish. But beyond that… "We have to get them all out. Expose these people for who they are."

Feitan studied him. He nodded. "Does that mean I ask Tserriednich more questions?"

"Oh god," complained Leorio.

"No," said Chrollo.

"Why do you hurt people?" Leorio snapped.

Feitan looked up at him. "It gets people to do what I want. And people hurt me. And I not let people hurt my friends, or the things friends care for." He gestured to Chrollo.

_The Spider._

_You cared because you knew I cared most about that. And because I've changed, you're trying to understand too._

_You respect me that much._

He remembered finding Feitan, chubby-cheeked despite his limbs being the toothpicks of a starving child, crawling through a dump, a leg broken, and he didn't even care. He still fought off a group of vagabonds and tried to fight Chrollo when he approached. But Chrollo easily beat him.

He'd never had a family. He didn't even know his birth date. His stature never recovered from the early malnutrition.

_You've always been strong. I've never underestimated you._

_I want to be a leader worthy of you following_.

"Want me to gather everyone?" asked Feitan.

Chrollo nodded.

Soon enough, everyone was in the living area of Oito's chambers. The queen held her child to her chest, face still grief-stricken. She wouldn't look at Phinks. Phinks was ashen.

Kalluto wedged himself between Feitan and Machi, and Chrollo understood. Kalluto adored Feitan the way Feitan looked up to Chrollo. And Machi praised Kalluto the way Illumi never had, the soft love to Feitan's hard love.

Hisoka and Illumi filed in, both of them flushed in some kind of afterglow. Chrollo couldn't even complain about it. He had no right.

"First things first," said Chrollo. "We're going to save Kurapika, and then we're going to save everyone in that auction hall and burn it to the ground. Not with people in it," he added hastily, glancing at Oito. "Consider it our apology."

He had no interest in spending his life atoning. He couldn't, not with so many depending on him. And he saw what that had done to Kurapika. But he could do the little he could, and still, you could not atone for a life. But he could save other ones, the weak who were cast away like society just like he had been, just like they all had been, and who were not strong enough to fight back.

 _I've always been fighting back, haven't I?_  Not, he was always lashing out. Not fighting back.

_I'm going to fight back, now._

"The Spiders and I will," Chrollo clarified. "Anyone who also wants to help out is… appreciated."

"Of course," said Bisky. "I presumed we would do that anyways."

Chrollo's face turned red.

Everyone concurred. Oito studied her shoes.

"Hisoka," said Chrollo.

He arched an eyebrow, seated next to Illumi.

"Saving Kalluto and helping with this," said Chrollo. "It's enough for a permanent truce." He squeezed his eyes shut, the memories of Kortopi and Shalnark's undignified corpses swaying in his mind.

But he had no right.

"It's enough," Hisoka agreed.

Chrollo's eyes popped. "You'll let it go?"

"Yeah, and I'll help you burn down that place," said Hisoka, flicking a card between his fingers. "I'm marrying a Spider, at any rate."

Killua looked as if he was about to gag. Machi scowled.

"I'm resigning from the Spiders," complained Franklin. "I can't with you, Hisoka."

Hisoka narrowed his eyes.

"Hey, hey," Chrollo interrupted. "We can—work this out later."

 _You are me, and I am you,_  he thought to Hisoka.  _I, too, have sought to kill in revenge. And walked with death._

_But you've decided to live._

_Kurapika, I want to live. And I want you to live, with me._

* * *

"Look," said Milluki's voice. "Borrowing this much money from Dad is hardly going to be worth it, Kil."

Hisoka rolled his eyes. He had never met this brother, but from the sound of it he was a headache like the rest of them.

"I will pay double what you have borrowed," said Illumi. They were all gathered in a circle around Killua's phone. Alluka crouched next to her brother.

"Nii-san?" Milluki burst out. "You're there too?"

So Killua hadn't mentioned Illumi. Hisoka watched Illumi's shoulders hunch. "I am."

"Well anyways," said Milluki. "That will suffice. But you should be aware I need a name and a face to get you that pass. So which one of you is going?"

"One?" asked Hisoka.

"We're all going," answered Killua.

Milluki laughed. "No, you're not. Look, if you want to get into the auction, I can get you a map of the building layout, but if you want to get into the actual auction undercover, only one, or at the most two, of you is possible. Also, the auction has like a pre-sale. A time to show off what will be sold the day before the auction. I could also get you a pass for that and whoever is going should show up. But again, one person. Or two. I guess. For more money."

"Fine," grumbled Illumi.

Fuck, that was shaving time off their planning. Hisoka gritted his teeth. "It can't be me, Cathuria knows my face."

"He knows almost all of our faces," Illumi pointed out. Chrollo looked as if he was about to explode.

"Milluki—" began Killua.

"No way. I'll meet you in Yorknew but there's no way in hell I'm going in there," said Milluki.

"How likely is it he knows mine?" asked Biscuit.

"Likely," Hisoka answered. "He's observant."

"Well, I can change my appearance."

That was news to Hisoka.

"Great," said Milluki. "I have no idea who you are, but that'll work."

"I can handle myself alone," Biscuit said.

"Wait," said Gon, eyes widening. "Bisky, there is someone else we can ask who will help us."

"Who?" demanded Killua.

"We know someone who can see people no matter where they are," said Gon. "And Cathuria will not have met her,  _and_  she even has undercover experience!"

" _Palm!"_  yelped Killua.

Gon nodded.

"Huh? Who is this?" asked Milluki. "Look, First Voice Woman, send me your information and I'll get you your fake IDs and get you on the list. And send me the other woman too, okay?"

Gon grabbed his phone. "I'll call her now."

Well, Hisoka was glad that was settled.

"Was she successful in her last undercover mission?" asked Machi.

"I mean, she stabbed herself and then got captured and turned into an ant, but helped us win in the end, if you count everyone pretty much dying for no reason as a victory," Killua said.

"An ant?" Milluki's voice sounded confused. "So can I like, just step outside and take a picture of a bug before I squish it and use that?"

"A Chimera Ant, dumbass!" Killua scowled.

"Like you'd step outside," said Kalluto. "Or squish a bug."

 _Savage_. Hisoka liked Kalluto.

"She's pretty," said Gon.

"Hey!" Killua barked. "Just because you went out with her once when she was acting like a yandere doesn't—"

"He went out with someone?" exclaimed Leorio.

"Yeah, he took her to an aquarium and then to a lake—"

"How do you know all that?" demanded Gon.

Killua paled. "I wanted to protect you!"

"So you stalked me?"

Hisoka couldn't contain a laugh.

"Fine. Get us the layout," Chrollo said.

"I don't take orders from you," taunted Milluki.

"Do it," said Killua.

"Not you either, brat!"

"Milluki," warned Illumi, voice dark.

"Fine."

Hisoka was impressed.

"I texted my dad for advice, but he didn't answer," Gon said sadly. Leorio grabbed a glass of water and aggressively chugged it.

"Can we talk?" asked Illumi, tugging Hisoka out of the room.

He followed Illumi back to the cabin. "What? If you wanted to fuck, you could just say so."

"That's not it." Illumi pressed his lips together. "I am not going to let Killua or Kalluto go into that auction hall, and I want you to help me."

"I notice you forgot Alluka and Gon," Hisoka taunted.

Illumi scowled. "I figured they were givens not to go. Gon doesn't have nen and Alluka has no special training."

"Doesn't appear she needs it, and Gon's still a talented kid," Hisoka said. He doubted Gon's father gave a damn though. "Hey, Illumi. What would your parents have done if one of you lost your nen?"

Illumi whitened. He sat on the bed. "I don't even want to think about it."

"So they don't love you."

"Why are you feeling threatened right now?" Illumi demanded, his gaze lasering Hisoka.

Fuck. Illumi was getting more observant.

"Your nen is only stronger after death," Illumi said. "How strong, Hisoka? Is it worth it?"

"Can we not?" Hisoka requested.

But judging by the flinty look in Illumi's eyes, there was only so far he was willing to go in changing right now. "Show me."

"No."

"Why not?" Illumi rose, chest heaving. "What, do you think I'm going to leave?"

The concept of sticking around wasn't really one Hisoka was familiar with. Marriage was going to weird. Hisoka rolled his eyes and then dropped down next to Illumi. He removed his Bungee Gum and Texture Surprise.

Illumi's face stayed the same expression.

"Oh, don't do that," Hisoka said in irritation. "Don't hide things. If I'm not allowed to, you can't either. It's only fair."

"Hisoka," Illumi whispered.

"Handsome, huh?" Hisoka winked.

Illumi grabbed his chin and kissed him. "If we were not allied with Chrollo, I would hurt him."

"You could always just kick him in the balls." A lump grew in Hisoka's throat.  _Even without nen..._

Illumi rolled his eyes.

"Enough of that." Hisoka recreated everything.

"You should have let Machi reattach them."

"I wasn't in the mood for taking charity." Hisoka hauled himself up.

Illumi worked his jaw.

"What?" Hisoka demanded.

"I don't like seeing you in pain."

"You mean because it wasn't inflicted by you? It only makes me—hey, Illumi! Illumi!"

But his fiancé was stalking down the hallway, and Hisoka rolled his eyes. "I'm going to talk to Gon!"

Illumi kept moving ahead.

* * *

_I have no right._

_I don't care. He's my husband to be_.

Illumi pushed open the door to Oito's cabin. Alluka sat there with Killua and Kalluto, the three of them playing Shiratori. Oito sat with Woble in a corner, staring out the window, at the clouds lazily slipping through the sky. Phinks and Nobunaga stood nearby, chastened bodyguards with abashed expressions. Killua ignored Illumi.

_For the last time, I have to bother him._

"Kil," said Illumi, crouching down next to them. "I have—something to ask."

"I'm not going home with you after this. I'm never bringing Alluka nor now Kalluto back," Killua responded. "I  _can't_ , Illumi, please."

"That's okay," Illumi forced himself to say, even though Killua's words burned like salt inside his chest. "I won't interfere."

"Huh?" Kalluto gaped. Killua froze. Alluka pressed her hands together.

"I just want one thing," Illumi said.

"Illumi, give me your fingernail," crooned Alluka.

Illumi reached for his hand. Killua grabbed his wrist, glaring at him. "Don't you dare. You are just—all of you just want to use her—"

"I don't want to lose him," said Illumi. "Killua. I don't want to lose Hisoka. I'll do anything. I'll give anything. I will go away and never bother the three of you again." He held his palms out, open. "Just—please. If Alluka can heal him… I have no right to ask, but I don't—I will not let him—I can't—" He bowed his head to the floor. Killua yelped. " _Please_."

"Aren't you being selfish?" Killua asked, but his voice was shaking. "Considering that you might actually be risking her ability to get all of us off—"

"Killua," interrupted Alluka.

"Nanika—"

"No, this is Alluka, calling you by your name because I'm annoyed," she snapped. "You don't have to pay a price for healing, you know."

"Only you do," protested Killua.

"I can sleep. It'll be fine. I can't do much else anyways while we wait." Alluka rose. "Bring him here. I have to touch him."

Killua's eyes watered. He nodded.

"It'll be okay, Onii-chan," Alluka told him.

"Thank you," Illumi whispered. "He's with Gon now. Also, don't tell him, he won't come then."

"Why am I not surprised." Killua pulled out his phone to text.

"I mean it, though," Illumi said. "After this—after we get Kurapika back, I will not bother the three of you again." He swallowed. He wanted to cry.

_I don't want to leave you._

_Don't leave me._

"What is happening?" Oito wanted to know.

He turned to her. "Hisoka hasn't healed from his injuries from Heaven's Arena. He's only masked them." He clenched his fists. "And... I tried to kill my sister once. I also locked her up for years because my parents—wanted that."

Oito scowled. "How are so many of you okay with child murder? It's really quite a low bar for decency and yet."

Illumi lowered his face. "I'm sorry, Alluka."

"If you're truly sorry," insisted Killua. "Look her in the eye."

Illumi looked at his sister, whose eyes were wide with confusion. They were his eyes, only blue, day instead of night. "I am sorry, Alluka."

_I don't deserve your help._

_But_ — _I still want it._ He'd spent his entire life scrabbling to earn love, to deserve it, and it had left him with bleeding fingers and with nothing and no one.

But he still had Hisoka. "I'm truly sorry," Illumi choked out.

"Illumi," said Alluka.

He blinked.

"Pat my head."

He reached out, patting her hair. It was soft. She beamed.

 _That's all you ever wanted too, isn't it? You, Alluka, and you, Nanika._ _Someone to pat you on the head and tell you they loved you, that you had been good, that they were proud of you._ And Nanika killed to earn it. And still, he refused to grant it. "I'm so sorry." A tear dripped down his cheek.

_I want that, too._

Nobunaga let out a sniffle. Kalluto snickered.

Oito wiped at her own eyes. Illumi gaped.

Woble woke up and whimpered. She stretched out her arms, for Phinks. Phinks hesitated.

"You can hold her," Oito said softly. She handed her daughter over, and Phinks pressed the baby against his chest.

"I'm sorry," whispered Phinks. "The people we should apologize to are—gone. Dead. And so I'm saying it to you, Oito. I am sorry."

"Why are you telling me?" Oito asked. "What good do you think it'll do?"

Phinks's face reddened. Clouds faded in golden sunlight outside. Phinks shoved his fists into the pockets of his green tracksuit. "When we met, you didn't look down on me for no reason, just because it's who you are. You're the kind of person I would've thought was weak, but you weren't. Every trait I would have thought was weak about you—it's a strength."

"And everything I thought was a strength of yours is a weakness," Oito replied.

 _Ouch_. Illumi cringed.

"But you have other strengths," Oito said, nodding to Woble, who had fallen asleep, her head resting on Phinks's shoulder. Phinks swallowed.

"We're here," announced Gon, entering the room. Illumi met Hisoka's gaze.

"Oh no. What did you do?" asked Hisoka.

Alluka grabbed his arm. "Do you want to be made well?"

"Huh?"

Alluka stomped her foot. "I'm going to heal you, dummy. If you want me to."

"What's the price?"

"Illumi already patted me on the head so it's paid." Alluka reached up.

"I almost killed you once," Hisoka blurted out. "I mean, I thought about it—"

Illumi considered paying Machi to sew Hisoka's mouth shut permanently, but it might cost him his own limbs.

"Do you want to be made well?"

"I mean, I guess if you—"

Alluka's eyes turned black. Aura surged. And it wasn't suffocating—it was sizzling with life and energy, and Illumi could only think about how much of a fool he'd been for ever thinking he could control his sister.

She was too beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As a pre-warning, the next chapter is going to be... very dark.


	17. Sinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be forewarned that this chapter is by far the darkest chapter in this story. I'm sorry; it is all uphill from here, but it's still dark. There is a warning for suicide midway through the first section, lots of depressive thoughts throughout, and a warning for implied sexual assault/self-blaming at the end. Please take care of yourself if reading that could be triggering for you.

"Are you going to kill me for saving your life?" Illumi wanted to know. He didn't care the answer. He was, for once, proud of himself. What a strange feeling, to do something that wasn't duty, and to have it feel like this.

"Technically you didn't. She did." Hisoka nodded at Alluka, asleep on the couch. Killua, Gon, and Kalluto were playing cards now. He held up his hand as if admiring his restored fingers. His nails were even long again. "Can I brag to Chrollo and piss him off?"

"He just declared a truce," Illumi pointed out.

"In terms of murder, not in terms of words," Hisoka said in a singsong voice.

"Alluka did a better job of it than I would have," Machi said, entering the room. "Kalluto already texted us. Shame." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"What's wrong?" asked Illumi.

"There's another riot below deck."

Illumi checked his watch. According to Killua, Alluka had to sleep for at least six more hours before she could transport them all back to Yorknew.

"You should stop it," said Killua, tossing a yo-yo in the air.

"Excuse me?" Machi's eyes widened. "Easy for you to say."

"No, easy for you to do."

"Incorrect," Machi said, flipping her sash around in circles. "And even if we did stop it, so what? We can't stop the succession war."

Oito studied her hands. She closed her eyes. "They're just kids," she said, voice wobbling.

"I don't think Alluka can do that much. This will already test her since there are so many of us," Killua said, biting his lip. He wrung his hands, clearly desperate to protect her. Not just for his sake. For Alluka's.

 _That's the difference between you and me, Kil._ Illumi bowed his head. _In the end, you are the one teaching me._ "I can stop Morena. But it won't last, not unless she changes her desires. And it won't stop the king."

"Tserriednich at least won't be winning that war," Machi said, tugging at her ponytail. A smirk played with her lips.

"How about we lock Morena and her father in a room together?" suggested Hisoka. "That would take care of the problem."

"No." No more locking people in rooms. Illumi rose. "I'll find Morena."

Gon stirred. "I have an idea."

"I'm curious," said Hisoka. Illumi stomped on his new foot. "Ow! Don't go breaking Alluka's hard work!"

"No," Illumi told Gon. "Whatever it is. No." He pushed himself up. "I'll be back by the time we're scheduled to leave." Hisoka got up to follow, but Illumi shook his head.

He had something he wanted to tell Morena.

"Illu-nii," Killua said. "You better not be late."

Hope burst inside Illumi's chest. His mouth dried. He nodded.

The third tier smelled of acrid smoke and blood. Illumi moved fast, and noticed Machi and Feitan tailing him as he wove his way through the crowd. The Kakin guards seemed to be getting a handle on the riot, but still, the screams of the people who'd lost loved ones grated against Illumi. He scanned. There. In the corner. It was almost as if she was waiting for him.

He marched towards her, calm and fluid like always. His heart pounded as he followed her out onto the deck.

"Well?" asked Morena. "You've been missing, I see. And—" She suddenly gasped.

"Nen threads," said Machi's voice from behind her. Wind whipped her pink hair in a maelstrom around her face. "He doesn't work alone anymore. He's part of the Spider."

Illumi aimed a needle. Morena struggled, her skin twisting in fury. Her scars twitched. Feitan hovered nearby, ready to strike if needed. "You're done killing people on this boat."

"You have no right to—who are these people to you, anyways? Just conveniences—"

"We're all working for Chrollo Lucilfer," said Illumi. "Because we want to. You—you don't even give your followers choices. Chrollo would like the crown of thorns, though."

"Like choices are ever anything you wanted people to have," Morena sneered. "I know who you are and what you've done to your siblings, Illumi Zoldyck. You are—all that your family wanted, and you are still a loss to them. I was nothing my father wanted and I am still a loss. It's the way the world is, isn't it? Unfair. Un—"

Illumi flinched.

"Oh no?" crooned Morena. Machi lashed more nen threads around her. "Or do you want to tell yourself that they love you, so you can sleep at night, so you can tell yourself that what you do is love and—"

Illumi lunged to shove the needle in. Her foot flew out, kicking him in the chest. He fell back.

"You aren't special," Morena said. "You are trash, just like me, just like those fourteen—now thirteen—princes, just like the Phantom Troupe, just like every person on this earth."

Feitan produced his umbrella. Machi swung, but Morena was struggling to get free. "You will only ever be—an assassin."

"That's not true!" Illumi heard himself yell. He grabbed her. She scratched his face, right where her scar was. She kneed him in the thigh, missing his groin. He hesitated.

_I—what else can I be—failing, I'm falling, I'm—when did I start wanting to be something else_ _—_

"You can't pretend—to do the right thing now—when you've done so much wrong—"

"I—" he eked out. Machi grabbed Morena by the back of the neck. Illumi's mind churned with how many mistakes he was making and how he had to correct them. An assassin's analysis. Only. Ever. _No—yes—what—_

"You can't!"

"Then when?" Illumi shouted. "When can you? I—for them—" For Killua, to earn the respect he once saw in his baby brother's eyes, he would atone. He'd do anything. His mouth broke. _Tell me what to do, someone!_

"You still know you're worthless," Morena snarled. "Deep down. You know it. You're still trying to earn your value, but you have none—no one has any." Tears filled her eyes. "Do you want to deny it?"

"I—"

She laughed, the sound horrific, like splintering wood. "So—I'll _prove_ it to you." Her hands grabbed a bundle of Machi's threads.

"Hey!" Machi screamed.

Feitan lunged.

Illumi threw a needle.

But she jumped.

Machi hurtled forward, almost yanked over the edge of the deck. Feitan grabbed Machi by the waist. The screams still echoed in the background. Nothing solved, and still—Illumi, for the first time since he was a child and Father slapped him out of it, felt shock seeping into each one of his cells, paralyzing him.

_This is death. And there is nothing businesslike about it._

Acid bubbled in Illumi's stomach. _Killua_ —

_I failed._

Feitan yanked Morena back onto the deck, her neck snapped in half, her eyes staring, vacant. "Why you do that?" he admonished her body.

 _There's no point. There's nothing._ Illumi remained crouched on the deck, panting. He dug his skin into the wood, splinters piercing his palm. _Nothing but pain and hopeless_ — _striving to_ — _not getting anywhere_ —

"I don't get it," said Feitan. "You have a life. Why you not want to live it?"

Illumi frowned. And he realized Feitan wasn't talking to Morena, but to him. "Something worth dying for—"

"Not this," said Feitan, scowling. "Not this."

It seemed strange to be lectured on life from someone whose favorite habit was by his own admission beheading. Morena lay crumpled, and there was nothing to be done, nothing at all, just like everything, just like all of this—was it all a lie? All the hope he felt—why—

Feitan's arm still clung to—Machi.

 _Wait, you just saved Machi_.

_Why?_

_You do care._

He cared. And Hisoka cared for him, and even if he didn't, Illumi cared. It hurt, but he bled and breathed and lived.

"Give her here," Illumi said softly.

Within twenty minutes, with Oito's information, Illumi barged into the king's chambers with Morena's limp body in his arms. She was still warm. This time, Hisoka wasn't letting him go alone. In fact, Chrollo, Franklin, and Shizuku accompanied him as well.

"Who are you?" bellowed a portly man, leaping up.

"You're not going anywhere," Franklin informed him, locking the door. He aimed his finger guns.

Illumi lay Morena down on his couch. "Look familiar? Or don't you recognize your own daughter?" His voice was empty again, but it clawed at him from the inside. Despair. It would break through.

Nasubi's pig face grew red. "I—her scars, yes, but I'm afraid—"

"She was down below," said Illumi. And now his voice shook. "She was using her hatsu to create murderers, telling them to kill—she's responsible for it, and she did it because you wouldn't notice her! Because you threw her away, because you scarred her, because you—"

 _I locked Alluka in a vault._ His chest burned.

 _I electrocuted Killua. I forced Kalluto not to vomit when he killed for the first time. I_ — _I_ — _I_ —

_You wanted to be noticed, didn't you, Morena? Even in death, if everyone died, you at least wanted to die with someone you knew._

_We are the same._

The cry burst from his lips. "Why… why didn't you love her? She was your daughter!" _Mom, Dad, why don't you love me? Why did I have to earn it? Why?_

_I hurt my siblings trying to earn it… and it was only ever hopeless._

_You do not love me._

_You never will._

_And I still_ — _I still want_ —

When he was a little boy, he used to wait up for Father to return home, return to him. Sometimes he didn't for days, but Illumi would press his four-year-old face to the window until he fell asleep on the window seat in his room in Kukuroo Mountain.

Only once did Silva look up, when he returned around dawn, and wave at Illumi.

_Did you ever feel anything for me? Even then, did you? Please...  
_

"She was the price for a few minutes of pleasure," replied the king, and that's when Illumi hurled his needles at him. They pierced the king's face.

"Illumi!" shouted a voice, but he couldn't even place it. He found himself kneeling over Nasubi, still alive, blood staining his hands, panting, words tangled in his throat, strangling him.

 _Why_ — _why_ —

"Enough, enough!" came a voice.

"Illumi, please," begged a second voice. A familiar one.

Illumi turned. Gon—no. Not Gon, though he was there, though he had spoken. An older Gon. And Oito. And Cheadle.

"The Hunter Association is here to take over the ship," said Ging with a smile as if he wasn't even noticing the scene of a dead daughter and a father who never cared.

"Since when do you give a fuck?" asked Hisoka. Good grief, were they all here? Killua thankfully wasn't.

"I don't really. But—" Ging glanced back at Gon. "I heard you might have plans for the New Continent that simply aren't allowed, Nasubi. So we'll have a contest to reach that—"

Gon turned his face away, and Illumi saw shame on it. And the same desperation that had just consumed him.

 _Love me. See me. I'm here, aren't I? If you made me_ — _surely_ —

Hisoka squeezed Illumi's shoulder. He jerked his head. "That was hot." And underneath it, Illumi heard something darker, something enraged.

Illumi rolled his eyes. He found Gon's gaze. "Thank you." _I guess your plan wasn't a bad one._

Gon's eyes widened. "Cheadle's the one who told him about the New Continent. He wouldn't have come otherwise."

And Cheadle was probably persuading the queens and their kids to leave. If they wanted to. It would be up to them. Illumi could see the plan.

_I'm sorry, Gon.  
_

_I don't know how to say it to you._

_She's still dead._

"I'll have you know, Nasubi," Oito said, approaching her squirming husband. "I'm leaving this ship. And I'm taking Woble with me. And we're starting over. I can be the girlfriend of a criminal, but I won't be your wife after today."

Illumi only wished he could be that free.

"Let's go," said Hisoka, and Illumi realized Hisoka was pulling Illumi after him, holding him upright, because his legs were like jelly and he couldn't walk. Illumi doubled over, vomiting. "Oh, that's pleasant," Hisoka commented. He still held Illumi up.

_We have to save Kurapika._

_Please. I want to learn._

_I don't want anyone else to die like that._

Killua gaped at him when Hisoka dragged Illumi through Oito's chambers, and Illumi couldn't meet his brother's eye. Killua took a step towards him and then stopped. "Illumi..."

"I'm fine," Illumi managed. "I'll be fine."

Killua nodded. "That's good."

A flicker of hope. Illumi dropped onto the couch, and then he realized. He was crying. Silently, but he couldn't stop. Dad would be pissed. Hisoka looked terrified.

"Not your fault," Feitan said.

Lots of other things were, though. He felt so tired.

"Thank you, Illumi," said Chrollo's voice. "For trying."

Even if he didn't succeed. Chrollo still thanked him. Or maybe Illumi had succeeded. He said he would stop her, right? He just hadn't meant by killing her.

The Phantom Troupe as a family... did that make Chrollo his elder brother? How odd.

Killua stared, still, a look of fear on his face. Kalluto approached, squeezing Illumi's shoulder in an awkward hug, and it was enough.

Illumi leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He heard Chrollo and Machi's voice, talking, and Kalluto's, and Killua's, Hisoka's. He was an assassin, trained to sleep so lightly to protect himself, but in this room filled with murderers, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Drip. Plink. Plish.

The sound of water dripping from sort of pipe had become a torture device. Kurapika clutched his hands over his ears, curled up on a thin cot in the tiny room. If he opened his eyes he might think the walls were closing in on him again, or expanding and leaving him alone in the middle of a vast metal nothingness. As it was he couldn't tell whether they actually were moving via some sort of nen trick or whether he was losing his goddamn mind.

_Why am I here?_

He wanted to save Kalluto. He wanted to help Killua and Gon. He wanted them to know he did care, even if he sucked at showing it. He wanted to honor Pairo's memory. How rich, when he was limiting the time he could do that. Kurapika contemplated turning on Emperor Time and just letting it run, run forever, run until his breaths and heartbeats ran out.

There was no way out of this prison. He'd finally managed to drag himself around the room, claw at the walls, after—after—he wasn't sure how long he'd spent. And there was no chance. There was no hope.

This was all there was for him.

_I just wanted someone to love me, and to tell me I could live._

_I can't._

_It is written._

And here, he couldn't die. Except Emperor Time, but he couldn't even conjure up the energy to turn it on.

The door opened. Kurapika could barely lift his head. Did his skull hurt, or was it just the weight of his thoughts crushing him from the inside out? But this was new. Usually food—empty gruel and lukewarm water—was shoved through a slot.

Cathuria stood there. Kurapika blinked at him.

Someone was here. Anyone.

_Hate me. Tell me I'm trash. Tell me you'll kill me. Say anything. I just want to feel._

_How am I not dead?_

"I'll have you know you'll be out of here soon enough," said Cathuria.

Kurapika clutched his shirt. He wasn't sure—that wasn't possible, right? Had—had someone come for him? Leorio? Chrollo?

"You'll be auctioned off in two days' time," said Cathuria. "For your eyes. Though it's up to whoever buys you as to whether they want to keep you alive or take out your eyes."

_Out of here._

Did everyone in this world have one of these rooms? Or could Kurapika actually escape then? Something prickled in his fingertips. Hope.

"Don't get excited," said Cathuria. "You'll be broken before then. You can't recover from this."

Kurapika bit his tongue. The blood didn't even have its bitter, salty taste. But he—he had survived far worse than this bastard knew. This hope could carry him far.

"You're already shattered beyond repair," Cathuria said. "Or have you forgotten?"

"Why are you like this?" Kurapika finally rasped. "I don't—understand."

"Oh?" Cathuria cocked his head. He rubbed his chin. "Don't pretend you want to. You've never tried to understand. You've only ever processed in a small room in your own mind. You—"

"Fuck off," croaked Kurapika. It was—true. But not anymore.

Cathuria exhaled. "I suppose I enjoy writing other people's stories for them, dotting the final page. It's the only way, you know. This world is unfair. The weak are exploited, and if you aren't exploiting, you're the weak. Except, I'm different. I exploit the strong. Every human being can be broken. It's so interesting to see just what makes them crack. I'm not that much different from that man you hate, you know. Chrollo Lucilfer. He likes to examine people without getting close. But I'm stronger than he is. There's no point to getting close to people. Only pain."

Kurapika flinched at the mention of Chrollo's name. _I don't hate him. He likes me._ He remembered Chrollo's lips on his, the way he traced his fingers down Kurapika's torso, as if he was something precious. Something to be admired.

_An object?_

_No!_ It was different. He felt—liked.

"Everything in life is pain in the end," Cathuria continued. "It all leads to the same place, doesn't it? Death and suffering. Broken. If your mind doesn't break, your body does. It's empty."

No. Gon, Killua, Leorio—they _were_. They were there. They filled his life.

"It's not worth it," Cathuria said. "Life isn't."

"Then why are you still here?" Kurapika snapped. Fire, in his tone. It warmed him. He wanted—

"I'm going to punish everyone for it," said Cathuria. "Like you, I have those I hate. The interesting ones, the ones that make you think. I hate them. I hate you."

"So you're not like Chrollo at all," Kurapika said. Chrollo loved his troupe. Kurapika once doubted someone like him could love, but he did. He knew it now.

Cathuria snorted. "You hate, too, don't you? You hate me. You hate the Phantom Troupe. You will hate your friends for not coming for you. You will hate whoever buys you."

"I will never hate my friends," Kurapika snapped. "I don't want them to come." And he didn't even hate the Phantom Troupe anymore. He hated what they'd done, but—

_I like Chrollo._

"Liar," Cathuria said, and Kurapika wanted to scream, but he didn't have the energy. "Any of that will fade. You'll be an object by the—"

"I'm a person, thank you," Kurapika said, heart thumping, reminding him he was alive.

Cathuria actually looked irritated. "Maybe I'll advertise that you're a beautiful virgin too. Maybe then someone will come along and really treat you like—"

"Oh, so you do tell lies?" Kurapika was enjoying this. Tearing this away, adding pebbles to at the very least make Cathuria squirm.

_Splat. Clink._

Cathuria's eyes narrowed. "I see."

Kurapika doubted it.

"So you and Chrollo," Cathuria said.

 _How did you know that? You just said we hated_ — _fuck._

A voice, his voice, from another time, lingered in Kurapika's mind. _While you were making empty threats, my chains were wrapping around your body._

 _You've been watching me. And others, too, haven't you? Looking for a victim. You've been playing with me here in this room. This conversation was a game. You were leading me into a trap._ And he still couldn't figure out what that trap was, but fresh terror chained him.

"How very interesting. Was that just your latest bout with self-mutilation?"

Kurapika held up his middle finger. "You're hideous." _You can't take that from me. No matter what you do to me. It happened. I slept with Chrollo and I liked it, and he said my name like a prayer, and I_ — _I_ — _I like him._

_He made me happy. He likes me. He forgave me._

_I want to forgive, like him._

_You can't have these memories. No matter what you do, they're mine. They happened. Even if this is the end, even if you break me, they happened. And they were beautiful._

"You'll never see him again."

"Well, now you're just being a stereotypical villain," Kurapika said. Still fighting. He had to keep fighting, even if the sound of Cathuria's voice was starting to drown out his heartbeat. "I've read enough books to know how your story ends, whether or not mine ends before, with, or after you."

Cathuria's hands shot out, landing on either side of Kurapika's face, pinning him to the wall. Kurapika's heart pounded. Fear. At least—at least—

"Do you know, Kurapika?" asked Cathuria. "What I do to break people, most of the time?"

"I don't really want to," Kurapika managed, and the man started to laugh. _Keep trying. Keep trying._

"I kill their loved ones. That's the reason Hisoka Morow was able to escape. There was no one for me to kill, not for him, because he cared about no one."

Kurapika shook his head. "You're lying."

"I'm not," crooned Cathuria. "And now I have extra motivation, since he stole extra money from me by fucking you. I kill their loved ones, or I carry out their most base desires. Do you know what that would be for you? Since it seems to coincide, I do think—"

Kurapika's breath hitched. "If Hisoka couldn't kill him, you won't."

"I will," said Cathuria. "Because as you know yourself. He clings to his troupe. He'll try to protect them. And in doing so, he'll write his own downfall."

 _No_. Kurapika's chest tightened.

"It's what you wanted." Cathuria's hand traced Kurapika's chin. "I'll bring you his head. Will you be relieved or sad? Or both? Will that tear you in two? I'll watch your justice tear you apart—a mind divided cannot stand—and it was all because you were so determined to sacrifice yourself. Kalluto was my other option, but now that I know—Chrollo is so much better an option."

"You—" Kurapika glared.

Cathuria leaned closer, his breath streaming and foul. "You are here because you wanted to prove yourself better than everyone else, and in the end, you only proved that you are nothing."

_That's not true it's not true it's not not not not not!_

_I am here because_ — _you are a monster! Because you_ — _lost yourself._

"Don't kill him," Kurapika eked out. "Don't—don't you dare—"

_I just placed a conditional bond on your heart._

"Or what? You can't hunt me down. You can't do anything. You never could."

_Where are the other spiders?_

Kurapika gritted his teeth. " _Please_."

How would he have responded if Uvogin begged? Kurapika knew, and he had never hated himself more. _I deserve this. I deserve nothing more than this; it's my fault. I am disgusting._ They were destroying him, these memories, and he wanted nothing more than to die, for this to stop, to suffer because he deserved it and he hated everything about himself, except those memories.

"And what will you offer? Your life? I already have it. And you already sacrificed it, again and again. You have nothing left to sacrifice. You are an empty shell."

 _I am not._ He still had a heart, pumping blood through him, even if he could no longer hear it. He still thought. His chest still warmed when he thought of Chrollo, of his friends, of forgiveness. He couldn't lose that. He couldn't.

"What can I do?" he whispered. A sick feeling rose in him. _It's my fault._

_Get lost, fool._

_I am a fool._

"Nothing." Cathuria turned to leave. "I'll be back."

"Wait!" Kurapika's voice broke. A sob wracked his chest.

 _You've already_ — _this was what you had planned all along, wasn't it? This was the trap. This was what you wanted, not to kill Chrollo. But you would if needed._ There was always a way out, but it all led back to shattering something he held dear. And this monster knew everything and was always working towards this end, and Kurapika felt powerless to stop it, and he hated himself because he didn't want this and yet he felt trapped and the chains were his own or maybe they weren't, and he couldn't even tell the difference. _My fault. My fault. I am trash._

_I want to die._

He'd never treated his body with any kind of care, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry :( Up next: Operation Save Kurapika.


	18. Lonely Shores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter a day early because I felt guilty about the last one. :P

"I can't believe she actually managed that," Chrollo said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't get any ideas, nen thief," warned Killua, holding his sleeping sister in his arms. Alluka transported them all to Yorknew—his troupe, Oito and Woble, Hisoka, Leorio and Cheadle, Melody and Bisky. Mizaistom and Ging were left to deal with the Kakin disasters. From what Oito said, it sounded like most of the other queens were taking their kids and fleeing. Good.

"We should head to the safe house, then," decided Cheadle. She and Oito were essentially the de facto leaders at this point.

The 'safe house' was really a small apartment building with more than enough space for all of them, beautifully furnished. Illumi still looked dead inside, as he had since Morena's suicide, but he started when he opened the door to find an overweight young man sitting inside. A woman with long black hair sat across from him, both of them playing some sort of fantasy video game.

"Hey, Aniki," said Milluki.

"I didn't think you actually planned on coming in person," Illumi said. They all filtered in.

"Yeah, well, Dad's gonna get pissed if he sees just how much money I borrowed since he wouldn't give the full amount, so I hacked into his bank account." Milluki set down the controller. " _You_ can explain everything to him."

"Fine." Illumi exhaled.

"Hey, Aniki," Killua greeted him. Milluki swallowed when he saw Alluka. "If you act like you're afraid of her I'll stab you again."

"Hi Palm," called Gon.

The woman was clutching her wrists, squeezing them in anxiety. And this woman held Kurapika's life in her hands. Chrollo tried to stay calm. "Hi."

"Thank you," Chrollo said.

She nodded.

"So we're partners now," Bisky announced cheerfully. She grasped Palm by the elbow.

"This time I won't try to stab you," Palm added with an awkward laugh.

 _What? The fuck?_ "Can I speak with you?" Chrollo requested. "Both of you." He gestured to Bisky and Palm. "Also the other Zoldyck, I guess."

Milluki scowled, but the three of them followed Chrollo into a spare room.

"I want to come," Chrollo said the minute Biscuit shut the door.

"No," said Biscuit.

"I have to," Chrollo pleaded. "I can't handle—waiting. Not when he's in danger."

"Didn't you hate him until recently?" Biscuit retorted.

Chrollo yanked his coat tighter around himself. "I can't just wait here. I can't." His breaths came ragged. Paku filled his mind. "Please." _You're cut from the same cloth, Paku, Kurapika. I couldn't save you, Paku, but I won't lose him._

_Forgive me._

"I honestly can't get you in," said Milluki. "It's too late to get you the fake identifications and get you on a list."

"Mr. Lucilfer," stated Biscuit. "Trust us."

Chrollo scowled. "I'm not losing another—"

"I understand," interrupted that weird woman. Palm. The one who was part ant. She covered her eye. "I can see him right now."

"What?" Chrollo caught his breath.

"He's locked in a terrible room," said Palm. "But he's alive. Rest assured, Chrollo Lucilfer." She took her hand away from her eye. "I will get him out of there. I will not lose sight of him. I know what it's like to wait for someone you love and be completely helpless to change anything."

Chrollo wouldn't go that far, but the possibility was there, for certain. He studied his shoes.

"I will not let you down," Palm vowed. "If it comes down to my life or his, I will choose his. You have my word." There was resolution in her voice, not the cowardice Chrollo had feared when he saw her scratching her wrists, acting like a nervous deer. She held out her hand, scales covering the skin.

 _You're cut from the same cloth as Paku._ Chrollo shook her hand. A lump grew in his throat. "Don't throw your life away."

"I have no intention of doing so," Palm responded. "But if you don't take risks, life isn't life."

Bisky smiled.

Milluki studied her. "I have an idea," he said. "I have top of the line, new wires. If we can fit Palm up with one of those, Chrollo, you can listen in. And be in the car waiting since we all know Killua and that friend of his aren't going to wait around either. It's also probably a good idea if I can keep in touch with you."

Chrollo bit his lip. He nodded.

"I'm fine with that," Palm agreed. "Does that mean you'll be coming, as well? In the car?"

Milluki looked as if he'd just swallowed curdled milk. Sweat dotted his forehead. He nodded. "I guess?"

* * *

Kurapika barely registered that he was out of that terrible room. It didn't even matter. It stayed with him, that gloomy aura, clinging to him, suffocating him. He was chained with unfamiliar cuffs in a room full of other people, all with dead eyes, all draped in identical, simple linen pants and shirts. But all of their chests rose and fell. He was just another person.

He should escape. He wanted to conjure some kind of plan, but his brain wouldn't even work.

He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to have a different body, a different life. He wanted normal eyes, and he hated himself for wanting that.

Life was never going to allow him to have anything. Only his own worst nightmares, only loss, only a hollowness that gnawed at his chest cavity.

_I've been in that room a long time._

_Since I was thirteen. Since they all died._

Cathuria appeared. Every time Kurapika saw him now he wanted to retch. His skin crawled, and he felt polluted all over despite being forced to shower before coming to this place. But to his knowledge the man hadn't killed Chrollo like he'd threatened. He didn't know if was worth it, and if he was at fault or not. He just wanted to stop it all, stop the memories, even the good ones. Pairo—Chrollo kissing him—Gon and Killua, Leorio—it all led here. All the seeds of hope those moments had given rotted in the end.

_I wanted so much more in my life._

"Show your eyes, or I'll reconsider," hissed Cathuria.

Kurapika didn't even care. He opened his eyes, scarlet. He was in a strange hall, lights shining on him so he couldn't see. He presumed there were people in the audience. Cathuria was talking, saying something about his eyes, about being the last of the Kurta clan, about him having special nen powers, about him being good in bed which elicited a laugh that cut Kurapika to his spine, about him being intelligent. And then they escorted him away.

"Take him to see the costume director," said a woman. "Put him in traditional Kurta clothing. That will go for more money."

Cathuria agreed, and Kurapika felt something burning inside him.

 _Don't you_ dare _._

They couldn't corrupt the clothing he adored, the comfort of his home, the home that had already been destroyed. And yet they would. Because life was taking everything. _Everything_.

He found himself alone in a new, small room, door locked. But there was a chandelier this time, golden and shimmering. The walls were wood, rich in color. There was light, and there was no soul-crushing aura. Then again, he supposed it wasn't necessary. There was still no hope of escape.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrors lining the walls. Eyes scarlet. He held out his hand, conjuring his chains.

If he threw Chain Jail on whoever walked in here, he would die. Kurapika curled his fist, studying the chains overlaying his skin. At the very least, Cathuria didn't know about that. He should have used it earlier. He was a fool. This was life. Empty, with pain.

The thought echoed with Cathuria's voice. Kurapika flinched. He didn't want his last thoughts dictated by that man. He wanted to think of Killua, Gon, Leorio, Melody. Oito, and Woble patting his cheeks, cooing at him. Chrollo moaning his name, Chrollo making—Chrollo proving—Chrollo being so much more than just a murderer. Even if they led here. He _liked_ those memories.

 _I want to be that. I want to be more than that. I want to be more_ — _more_ —

He was so greedy. This was all life was. This was all it had to offer. This was it.

_I wanted so much more._

_And I still want it. I want something better than this._

" _You like me?" he'd asked Chrollo, and he saw something in Chrollo's chocolate eyes then. Hesitation. Fear._

 _Because he_ wanted _Kurapika to like him too._

Chrollo was more than the worst thing he'd ever done. And Killua, too. And Gon, given a second chance. And Melody. And Kurapika, he—he—if this was his penance, if this was his punishment for murdering Uvogin and Pakunoda, for not keeping his promise to Pairo—

_This isn't what you'd want, Pairo._

If this was how life would go, if this was what was written for him, fuck it. Kurapika would fight for that pen. _If life is so cruel, I refuse to accept it._ He thought of Leorio, working to save people now, when he couldn't save his friend. He could never bring that friend back, and yet he still fought. Chrollo, determined to protect his troupe.

 _You people are alive._ Creating beauty from ashes.

And he watched them fly, but he was afraid.

" _You like me?"_

And Chrollo had kissed him.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Multiple footsteps. Kurapika tensed. He would not use any of the chains that would kill him.

_I'm going to fight. If they have to drag me back, they do._

_Chrollo, take care of yourself._ He had to trust he could. And if Kurapika succeeded, they could go away, go away together. Provided Chrollo returned from the New Continent, that is.

_I'll fight. I won't give in. I still hope. Even if this is all there is. Maybe, maybe there's more._

_I believed it when you kissed me, when Gon and Killua came because I asked, when Leorio worried and Melody tried to talk me out of my bad plans._

_Leading here or not, I don't regret them._ And that was enough beauty to fuel him, scrape away at some of the misery cloaking him. Kurapika aimed his chains as the door flew open.

"Kurapika!" cried two voices. Two women stood there, one huge and somewhat familiar, and one small and beautiful.

"I'm always finding you locked in rooms," said the huge one, and Kurapika recognized the voice. _Biscuit?_

"How—but you were on—" _How did she_ — _Alluka!_

 _Then is_ — _are_ —

"Don't ask. We'll explain later," said the other woman. "I'm Palm Siberia, and we're getting out of here."

Kurapika gaped. But he didn't have time to ponder this. He shook from head to toe. They'd come. The impossible, and they were trying it. For him. He wondered who precisely sent them. Oito? Chrollo? Gon, Killua, and Leorio?

"Kurapika?" asked Biscuit.

He met her eyes, his red. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Palm covered half her face. "The hallway is clear. Milluki's trying to do some fancy work on their security cameras, but I'm not sure how sufficient that will be."

She must have some kind of clairvoyance, Kurapika realized. He slipped out after them. His heart thumped.

"It's unfortunately a bit of a maze in here," Biscuit whispered. "Which is why we have a plan. Palm?"

"Got it." Palm tugged Kurapika by his arm. He flinched. "Follow me."

He nodded, slipping in the opposite direction from Biscuit and tugging his arm away from Palm. Splitting up hardly seemed like a good idea, but he wanted to trust them. He hoped he could. _Please._

_I don't want to be alone._

_I want to live. Help me._

"Shit," said Palm, pressing her eye again. "Quick!" She grabbed Kurapika again, shoving them into a closet. Voices filled the hallway. "Milluki—yeah, I know."

"What?" Kurapika hissed. He conjured his chains. If—

"Biscuit's fine, but they're aware someone escaped and are combing the building."

 _Fuck_. He should tell her to go. He should tell her to save herself, and not him. He could even step up to them, hand himself over— _no._

 _I don't want to. I don't want to stay here._ He could be selfish in this, couldn't he?

"Are you okay?" Palm whispered. "Milluki's doing more hacking. We're going to get you out of here."

"I don't like being useless," Kurapika retorted.

Palm nodded. "I understand."

Guilt churned in Kurapika's stomach. "What about Biscuit?" If anything happened to her… _not another Pairo, not another Pairo._

Pairo made his own choices when he saved Kurapika from that cliff.

It still hurt.

"You shouldn't be risking yourself for me," Kurapika managed. He had to at least say it, assuage the guilt in any way he could. "I'm already dying." _Why does my life matter to you, when I've treated it so cavalierly_? He'd give anything for a do-over.

"Your friends are here," Palm said. "Waiting nearby in a car. Gon, Killua, Melody, Leorio. And Chrollo."

Chrollo.

Kurapika lowered his face. Shame filled him. _I've been so stupid. I've been so selfish._ He treated his friends like they didn't matter not just in terms of what they wanted, but what they wanted for him. "My power comes at the cost of—hours of my life, Palm."

She looked at him with her lips parted, shock settling in her eyes.

"I can't use it," Kurapika said. "Not to help. I'm as good as nenless." _I want to live. I don't want to die here. I don't want to die at all._

Palm swallowed. "Okay." She tapped her ear again. "Yeah… no. No. Okay." She turned to him. "We'll have to wait at least twenty minutes."

"Are you sure they won't find us in the meantime?" Kurapika asked.

Palm pressed her lips together. "Milluki will help with that, and Biscuit's going to make up a story about seeing me with you elsewhere."

Kurapika sighed. He wondered why Biscuit hid her true form. What did she have to be embarrassed about? She was intimidating as hell. Unless she approached everyone with the idea that they might be an enemy. That was sad if so. Kurapika huddled in on himself. Well, if they all got out of here alive, he would have to tell her that. "I know you fought with Gon and Killua in the ant war," said Kurapika. "Thank you for protecting them."

A soft look crossed Palm's face. "Yeah. We were—it was a shitshow."

Kurapika managed a smile. It felt good, to smile.

"Everyone wound up dead, and for nothing," Palm said, her voice shaking. "We could have—just talked."

Kurapika blinked.

"The king, his guards—they weren't monsters," Palm said. "They'd just killed loved ones, and were unlucky enough for the world to come against them."

Not monsters. Kurapika closed his eyes. He snapped them open. No darkness. His heartbeat picked up pace. "Aren't you one, now?"

"Do you want to know that story?" Palm looked sad.

"I suppose." They had time.

She told him about infiltrating the palace as a secretary for a man named Bizeff. "And in order to get what I needed, where I needed, I seduced him. I suppose. He was disgusting."

 _You heard what Cathuria said about me._ Kurapika shivered. Shame filled him, poisoning him from the inside. _I asked him to_. Though Cathuria had clearly planned it, trapped him.

"Are you okay?" Palm asked.

"No," Kurapika answered honestly. He felt nauseated. Did she feel like filth too, like a piece of rotting garbage?

"I hate him," Palm said bitterly. "He escaped. But I thought—it was worth it—it was for a good cause—and—"

Kurapika covered his mouth. She was shaking. "I hate him, too. He said he'd kill—everyone I loved. It was the only thing I had to bargain with."

"They're bastards," Palm said bitterly. "Thinking of people like meat. No better than the ants. No, worse."

Kurapika gulped. "I don't want to die. I want to—he—he wanted me to be a mindless—"

"He's an idiot, then," said Palm. "Everyone I know who is your friend says you're smart."

"Does it get better?" Kurapika asked. His fingers pressed into the wooden floorboards. Dust coated his knuckles. "For you, has it?" _Have you ever felt like he wasn't clinging to you, damp and sticky?_

"It depends on what you mean," said Palm. "I have good days and days when I look at myself in a mirror and want to stab whoever is looking back at me."

_But you're living._

_You're here. You're brave._

_You're a friend._ Kurapika reached out, gripping her shoulder.

"I mean, I'm literally an insect," Palm joked.

"And I'm a murderer," Kurapika said.

Palm swallowed. "We should be friends."

Kurapika nodded. _After_ — _you know my two worst secrets, the things I'm most ashamed of, and you still see me as a person._

_Maybe I won't be broken forever. Maybe I can still be a person. For however long I have left to live._

She covered her eye again and pressing her ear. "What, Milluki?"

A boom echoed in the distance. The building shook. Kurapika grabbed Palm. "The hell was that?"

Palm pressed her finger to her lips. Kurapika's pulse pounded.

"Let's go." She grabbed his wrist, and he let her pull him out of the closet. They sprinted through the hallway, down a staircase, into a dank basement. Kurapika coughed. Palm swore. She fumbled with one of the pipes, a huge one.

 _Oh shit._ It was going to be dark. Kurapika took a deep breath.

"You first," Palm said. "I'll be right behind you. Promise."

 _I want to trust you._ Kurapika nodded, hauling himself inside. The walls really were tiny here. He had to drag himself on his elbows. He could hear Palm's breaths echoing behind him. It was damp, water dripping onto them. "What was—that—explosion?"

"Don't know, but whatever it was, it was conveniently timed," Palm panted. "Too convenient. Someone in our party went rogue." Water rushed now.

Kurapika would bet on a Phantom Troupe member. _Does that mean they're actually trying to save me? Because of Chrollo? Are they actually treating me like a member of their group?_

"Kurapika," Palm managed. "There should be a ladder above you."

He reached up. He couldn't feel it. A little further, and there it was, rusted rungs. Kurapika dragged himself up.

The ceiling—a metal storm drain—was yanked back. Biscuit's arms reached down, pulling Kurapika out, and then Palm. "This way!"

They were on the street.

They were _out_. People buzzed around what looked like a shoddy district in Yorknew. Kurapika raced after Biscuit, air filling his lungs.

* * *

 _That's an awfully convenient explosion a few blocks away,_ Chrollo texted Feitan.

Feitan responded with a shrugging emoji.

Chrollo was going to bite his lip clean off if he had to wait much longer. Palm muted her conversation at one point, but he'd heard enough to feel like he was going to be sick. He gripped his knees. Killua was doubled over, Gon holding him in the back of this SUV they were using. All the seats were folded down. Milluki worked by the doors, looking nervous. Melody and Leorio sat up front, Leorio a getaway driver again. This was certainly very different than the last time he was in the backseat with those two up front.

"They're coming," Milluki said suddenly.

Chrollo stiffened. Gon flung the door open, hand out. He grasped Kurapika's wrist, pulling him in. Palm and Biscuit, back in her childlike form, scrambled in behind them. Palm and Kurapika were soaked and shivering.

"Go," Milluki barked, and Leorio obeyed, though he kept glancing over his shoulder. "Hey, don't drive into a wall!"

"Kurapika—"

Gon and Killua both had their arms flung around him. Kurapika was gasping. Crying. His shoulders shook.

_Kurapika..._

"You're okay," Melody said. "You're safe."

"I was so fucking scared!" burst out Leorio. "I'm so glad you're—Kurapika. You're here. You're really here."

Kurapika lifted his face. He pressed his lips together and then his hand over his mouth, as if to keep himself quiet. His other hand wiped his tears away.

Chrollo shrugged out of his coat, holding it out. Kurapika took it, wrapping it around himself. "Thanks."

Chrollo opened his mouth. He didn't know what to say. Everything felt insufficient. He didn't want to hurt him or scare him. His eyes welled up.

_You're here. You're alive._

Kurapika stared at him, eyes wide. And then he almost smiled. "You're here."

Chrollo reached out. Kurapika flinched. Chrollo stopped.

And Kurapika then met his eyes, his welling up again, lifting his own arms, opening them, as if asking if Chrollo really wanted him. Chrollo grabbed him then, arms closing around Kurapika, holding him tight. He pressed his chin into Kurapika's neck. He was crying. Crying from pain, but not his own, crying because he was free and in Chrollo's arms and alive, and because Kurapika was redemption itself to Chrollo: what he never knew he wanted but now couldn't breathe without the hope of it.

 _I don't deserve you._ If Kurapika told him to leave, to find all the eyes and then never come back, he would do it. But Kurapika rested his forehead on Chrollo's shoulder, as if he actually felt relief in his arms.

"I didn't think you'd be able to find me," Kurapika eked out. "I didn't even know if you would try."

"What?" demanded Gon. "Of course we would. You're our friend."

But he truly didn't know, did he? He thought so little of himself. But to Chrollo, he was invaluable.

Chrollo pulled back. His fingers hovered, unable to trace his chin. "All of us here—we'd go to the ends of the earth to find you, Kurapika." His knuckles brushed Kurapika's jaw.

Kurapika broke down, messy sobs tearing from his lips. And this time, he didn't hide his face from them. His lips curled, nose flared, cheeks twisted as gut-wrenching cries echoed. He pounded his fist into the floor of the van.

"Don't you get it yet?" asked Leorio. "Kurapika, there is nothing you could do that would make us hate you."

"Nothing you could do, or that could be done to you," Melody said. "You are always someone we love."

"You are a _precious_ friend," Killua said. "I went to hell to get Gon back, and I'd do the same for you."

"You are brave," said Gon. "So brave, Kurapika, and strong, and I wish you'd rely on us more. You aren't a burden for asking us for help, and you aren't weak and you've never been weak. In some ways, I wish I was more like you."

Kurapika almost laughed. A hiccup broke through. "I don't want you to be more like me, Gon."

"You showed me how to live," Chrollo whispered. "I don't want to—remember how I used to walk with death? Well, that's changed. You made me value life. Mine, and my troupe's, and others. Maybe you were meant to be a god of mercy and not justice. And—" God, he was making a mess of this. He lowered his head and shoulders in a bow. "Your friends are right. From a former enemy. There are so many more waiting back at the house, too. You matter. We want you alive. You deserve to be, and you don't deserve _anything_ that's happened to you. I was a fool to have taken anything from you, and there's no excuse. We value you, Kurapika."

Kurapika was still bawling, but he was nodding.

"You don't have to deserve us, either," Chrollo managed. "We care because—we want to." _I like you. We all like who you are, those core things that create Kurapika._

Kurapika kept gasping, cries like a baby's filling the car. He could barely catch his breath, from the sound of it. He pulled Chrollo's coat tighter around himself. "Thank—you. All of—you." He looked all around the van, at each one of them, eyes and nose streaming. "You are—precious to me." And he reached out to grasp Chrollo's hand, as if to assure him: _you, too._

And possible for the first time in Chrollo's life, he felt clean.


	19. Before the Storm

"I not sorry," Feitan said when he returned. Machi almost smiled.

Illumi couldn't stop pacing. If Killua wasn't back soon, he was going to lose it. He was so useless here, useless to help Killua, useless to comfort Kalluto and Alluka even when he saw the guilt compressing Kalluto's brow. Hisoka finally rolled his eyes and started doing magic tricks with Bungee Gum and his cards to distract them.

Oito bowed her head, rocking a fussy Woble. Phinks looked as if he wanted to put a hand on her arm, but was afraid to touch her.

The door opened. Illumi whipped around, fists and jaw clenched.

Biscuit, Melody, and Milluki staggered inside. And Melody looked to Illumi, and she smiled.

_You did it._

Then Palm, wearing Milluki's jacket and soaked, teeth chattering. And then Leorio, Gon, Killua, Chrollo, and _Kurapika_ , draped in Chrollo's coat. Kurapika's jaw dropped when he saw everyone gathered.

"Kurapika!" Oito leaped to her feet. Woble's whimpers quieted, and she reached out her arms.

Kurapika's face crumpled. He reached for the baby, clutching her to his chest. "You're all—"

"We're loyal to our members," grumbled Nobunaga. "Even fake ones. Sometimes."

Kurapika took in the sight of Hisoka with them. His eyes bulged. Hisoka smirked, waving.

"Kurapika needs to rest," Leorio announced. "As his doctor, I'm putting my foot down. Come on."

Kurapika kissed Woble on the head as he handed her back to her mother. He followed Leorio out of the room, Chrollo on his heels.

"We have information that will help in the raid," Biscuit announced when they were out of earshot.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Illumi said to Killua, who nodded. "And that your friend is okay."

"Thank you," Killua said softly.

 _I want to get to know you_. But he wasn't sure how to ask. Or if he even had the right to. Illumi's shoulders slumped.

After a meeting to plan more of the raid—during which Illumi kicked Kalluto and Alluka out and tried to kick Gon and Killua out only to be told that he had no say—Milluki, Illumi, and Hisoka returned to the room they were forced to share. He opened the door to find, to his shock, Kalluto huddled on the floor. "Kalluto?"

Kalluto jumped. "Sorry."

"Were you waiting for us?" _Do you want to talk?_ No, he probably didn't.

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Liar," taunted Hisoka.

Kalluto scowled.

"It's okay, Kalluto," said Illumi softly, though the words peeling his skin to say. "You can go."

Kalluto hesitated. He peered up at him. "Is it my fault?"

 _What?_ Kalluto's chin trembled. He dropped onto the foot of one of the beds.

"No," said Hisoka. "Cathuria's just a bitch."

Illumi glanced at Hisoka. He shook his head. "It's not, Kalluto. And Kurapika's even okay."

Kalluto rested his chin on his knees. And then Illumi noticed Alluka, perusing the collected of books lining the walls, but listening. _You came? To support Kalluto?_

"He was nice to me," said Kalluto. "It was—I felt so—with you, you were trying to—drive a wedge between me and the Phantom Troupe—"

"I was not—" Was he? Illumi didn't even know. He couldn't trust himself. All these habits were so ingrained in him. Was he broken beyond repair? Worth only to be thrown out?

He watched Alluka, remembered the massive aura pouring out from her when she healed Hisoka, and wanted to hope. She even smiled at Kalluto, even though—even though—

If miracles existed, she was one. And he wanted there to be miracles.

"I was so lonely," Kalluto said, a tear sliding down his cheek. He covered it with the sleeve of his kimono.

They were always taught not to cry. But they did. He knew Killua did. But he hid it, so Illumi never punished him for it.

"You don't have to hide it anymore," Illumi managed. He crouched down in front of his brother. _You were always lonely, weren't you? Even in that house._ "I'm lonely, too," he said, and his voice broke. All he could think of was what he put Alluka through. Literally encasing her in a vault, ensuring her isolation.

She was not a tool. She was a miracle. And he did not deserve to be her brother.

He reached for Kalluto, and Kalluto reached for him. Hisoka leaned back against the wall, an unreadable expression on his face. Milluki pressed his fingertips together, exhaling loudly.

"So loneliness is a Zoldyck trait," Hisoka said, and Illumi rolled his eyes. Here they went. "How fitting."

Because they were all locked up. They were all taught that to be loved meant to be tortured. _And we all still wanted a miracle_. Even though he and Milluki had given up. Milluki with his dolls and never leaving the house, Illumi crushing his emotions. Milluki with his video games and his fantasies, Illumi chasing Killua. _We still hoped._

Even now, Milluki jumped when Hisoka spoke. Afraid.

The door opened. Palm stuck her head in. "Hey, Milluki." She held out his jacket.

"Oh." Milluki got to his feet, shuffling over to take it. "Thanks."

"Thanks for it," Palm said. "Also, I heard all your conversation. The walls here are paper thin."

"And you were probably eavesdropping," Hisoka pointed out.

Palm scowled. Milluki snorted.

"Well anyways," Palm continued, focusing on Illumi. "I used to focus on—my teacher, and then Gon, and before them it was—there was always someone, because I didn't want to be alone. Except I only ever made myself more alone."

 _Killua_.

"But it's okay," Palm said. "I mean, I try not to do that anymore. Sometimes I can't help it. But Killua went from hating me to liking me and now we're friends, so—and Gon and I are friends, and Knov too—he was my teacher. They still like me even though I let them down sometimes and tried to hurt them because I would have gone to the ends of the earth for whomever I wanted to love me, but I never needed to. They love me even though I'm an ant now. You all are here, so there are people who still like you."

Illumi swallowed.

She left, and Milluki looked at the door with his eyes shining.

* * *

"If you and Gon are going and he doesn't have nen why am I not going?" complained Alluka. Kalluto stood behind his sister, his hands on his hips. Gon looked at Killua, sheepish.

Killua scowled, chugging a can of orange juice. "Because I don't want to use you."

"Why not?"

"Because—"

"Nanika has something to say to you," Alluka informed him.

 _Oh shit._ Killua gulped.

Alluka's eyes turned black. Oito froze from across the kitchen, where she was trying to feed Woble some crushed apples with sugar and cinnamon.

"We want to help," Nanika said. "Killua. Why—"

"I don't want you to become some tool," Killua blurted out. "I don't want you to—be an ace up our sleeve, something to fix all our problems when you can't, when we can't, when we can't fix the world—I'm scared of the wrong people noticing, and I can't—I can only—I don't know if I can always keep you safe." His voice trembled. His face turned red, burning.

"But Nanika wants to give back," said Nanika. "You love us. Nanika feels loved now, and that's what I wanted, and I trust you to give it no matter what Nanika does, so—Nanika wants to—"

 _I don't—I don't—I want to trust—I don't want to become Illumi and I'm too scared. I'm still so scared._ Killua bowed his head. "Nanika, you're—a kid. There were things we saw—things we heard—today that I don't want you to have to know about yet." He looked at Kalluto. "You either. I just don't want—I want you to be able to be kids."

_I can't be, so I want it for you._

Gon patted Killua's shoulder.

"Too late," said Kalluto.

"It's _not_ too late." _Not for you._

Nanika sighed. "Can I do things without being asked?"

Killua gulped. "What do you—"

"I heard you and Gon talking about your friend and his life span," said Nanika. "And Alluka and Nanika are going to heal him."

* * *

Kurapika opened his eyes. Warm sunlight filtered in through the window, and he was lying on a soft mattress. Laughter and bickering sounded below. A baby cried. Woble.

 _I'm free_. Kurapika pushed himself up. When they got back last night, Leorio gave him some medications to take and told him to sleep. Melody stayed with him, playing a soft song with her flute until he finally fell asleep. Apparently he'd slept through mid-morning at the very least.

His phone was on the windowsill next to him, with a note from Chrollo. _When you're awake, please text._

 _I'm awake,_ he texted. He wasn't certain how he felt about stepping out of the room just yet.

Footsteps pounded. Kurapika stiffened. The door flew open and Gon and Killua burst in, Leorio on their heels. Chrollo, Alluka, and Kalluto followed, and Melody too.

"Whoa," Kurapika said, a laugh emerging as his friends all tried to hug him. "Is everyone—still here?"

"Yes," said Killua, pulling back. "They're going to save everyone in the auction tonight. From that place."

Kurapika's eyes widened. He turned to Chrollo. "Including your troupe?"

He nodded.

"Cheadle's arguing with the Hunter's Association as well," said Leorio. "For backup. I'll be on hand to give medical treatment to those who will need it."

"Good," Kurapika said, swallowing. He couldn't meet their eyes. "No one deserves that."

"Kurapika," said Kalluto. Kurapika glanced at him. Killua's littlest brother knelt, bowing. "Thank you." His voice trembled.

"Of course," Kurapika said. "I'm not—I don't blame you at all, Kalluto." And he didn't. He thought of all those kids, the ones who died in the Kurta massacre. Kalluto was not so innocent a child, but he was still a child. A child forced to do horrible things, not so different than Killua himself had been when Kurapika first met him. A child who wanted to earn the right to be loved. "It's okay." He managed a smile.

He did not want to imagine what Cathuria would have done to a child. Kalluto did not need to know about that. Leorio assured him that no one who had heard it would say a word to anyone else who was helping out, and Kurapika somehow knew that none of them would break that promise.

Kalluto nodded. He scurried out of the room.

"I really—don't deserve all your help," Kurapika managed after he was gone. He looked at the five people in the room, Gon, Killua, and Leorio on the bed, Alluka standing near the shut door, and Chrollo crossing his arms and watching him. Melody sat at the foot of the mattress.

He didn't want to look at Chrollo very long. There was a lot to say, and he wasn't sure how to say it. "I mean—you risked—"

"It's a long story," said Killua. "But Illumi managed to help stop the succession war. Most of the queens and their children left."

Kurapika's jaw dropped. Leorio produced a water bottle and handed it to him. "Hydrate."

Kurapika rolled his eyes but twisted the cap off, drinking.

"You know," said Gon. "I didn't deserve very much help, either. I mean, after the ant war. I put everyone at risk just to kill Pitou, for revenge for Kite—and for—I wanted my dad to notice me. I wanted to earn his respect. And it wasn't just then. You guys have been helping me since you met me."

 _Because we_ — Kurapika swallowed. _Because we wanted to believe._

_We wanted to believe we could earn love too._

_We wanted to believe that love would guide us, and it would be okay._

He couldn't earn it. They were dead. And they had loved him, hadn't they? What happened in the end didn't negate it. Pairo—loved him. He was Kurapika's best friend. Killua wanted to earn his freedom, prove that it was enough not to have his family's love. Leorio wanted to earn his friend's love and wound up helping others.

 _Leorio, you're the strongest of all of us_.

"I never regretted it," said Killua. "I regretted—not stopping you, but never helping you."

"Well anyways," said Gon, turning back to Kurapika. "That's how we feel about you. No matter how badly you've messed up, and no matter how much you've suffered. And none of us blame you for it, either. What Cathuria did wasn't your fault." His lips trembled. "I want to believe Ging leaving me wasn't my fault."

"It wasn't," Kurapika insisted. His throat clogged.

 _I've always viewed everything as my fault. Like I'm some kind of god_.

 _I just want to be a person. Someone who exists in this world, someone who loves and is loved_. He covered his face. "I'm sorry."

"Why did you try to hurt yourself?" asked Leorio. His mouth trembled. "Kurapika, hearing that—that—"

Right, they all knew about Emperor Time now. They knew he was so cavalier about his life. Kurapika hung his head.

"Nothing that was done to you is your fault," said Chrollo softly. "Not any of you. And I'll take responsibility for Emperor Time. I pushed—"

"Thanks, Spider," Killua snapped. Alluka's eyes pooled.

"I won't use Emperor Time anymore," Kurapika said. "And Chrollo, no. I made that choice."

"And I'm making mine," said Alluka, approaching him. "I don't want any of Onii-chan's friends to suffer anymore. Since it hurts him too."

"Huh?" Kurapika gaped at her.

She stretched out her hand, eyes turning black. "I'm going to restore the years Emperor Time took from you."

"What?" Kurapika didn't understand. "You can—do that?"

Chrollo gripped his skull as if in shock. He slumped to the floor. _You still—you still care_. In that car, Chrollo had pulled his coat tight around Kurapika, holding him.

"Trust me," said Nanika. "But you might not be able to use your nen like you're used to. I mean, you might have to start over from the beginning, learning it all again."

No more chains. Kurapika swallowed. He held out his hand. "Okay."

* * *

"How's he doing?"

Chrollo set down the book he had been lazily flipping through. He sat up. Hisoka leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "Alluka healed him."

"Yeah, I know. She's been asleep since." Hisoka let out his breath. "Are the two of you dating?"

Chrollo traced the edges of the book. "We need to have that talk."

"Yeah," said Hisoka. "You do."

"Do you have something to say?" asked Chrollo.

"Just that if you take out anything I've done on Illumi, I'll call off our truce."

"Do you know how to communicate without threats?" Chrollo asked, getting to his feet.

"Not really," Hisoka answered.

"I don't fault Illumi for it."

"Good." Hisoka swallowed. "I don't want to cut him off. I want to marry him. So—"

 _You… love him?_ "So you're going to be around us whether we like it or not."

"Pretty much," Hisoka agreed.

 _Thought you're asking for permission, aren't you?_ "Hisoka," said Chrollo. "What I did to defeat you—was wrong. Not because of defeating you, but the people there. It was… Kurapika—"

Hisoka hesitated. "I should not have lashed out at Shalnark or Kortopi. They weren't bad to me. Shalnark was funny."

"Well," said Chrollo. "Thank you for helping save Kalluto, and Kurapika."

Hisoka scowled as if Chrollo was making him uncomfortable. "You know," said Hisoka. "I presume you've figured out some things about Cathuria. He did the same thing to me that he did to Kurapika. Guessing by the fact that I know that bastard and how long you and Leorio were with him for medical treatment last night. You better not treat Kurapika like something to be used."

Chrollo started. "I wouldn't. It is not his fault, and I—" _I hate Cathuria for it. I want to kill him for it._

"Good."

"Why are you telling me this?" Chrollo asked. He wasn't even aware Hisoka had a vulnerable bone in his body.

"I'm going to kill him tonight," Hisoka said, looking away from Chrollo. "It has to be me."

Chrollo nodded. "I agree. It should be you. I'll tell my spiders."

"Thank you." Hisoka sounded as if the words were a foreign tongue. He probably thought Chrollo would insist on doing it, but Chrollo didn't think so. Hisoka stayed there, arms folded, staring at his dumb high heels as Chrollo slipped away. He suspected Hisoka wanted to be alone. Chrollo headed up the stairs to Kurapika's room. He knocked.

"Come in," called Kurapika's voice.

Chrollo pushed the door open. Kurapika was sitting up in bed, surrounded by books brought by Killua and Leorio. And dressed in his tribal attire again, the azure one Oito found in his room and insisted on bringing for him. He smiled when he saw Chrollo.

"How are you feeling?" Chrollo asked. Kurapika still had circles under his eyes, and a wounded look rubbed raw on his face.

"Okay," said Kurapika. "Still tired." He shook his head. "I can't believe—it never occurred to me that Alluka—" He inhaled. "I wish all things could be fixed so easily. Redone."

Chrollo nodded. "Me, too." He sat down at the foot of Kurapika's bed. "I really am—sorry, Kurapika. I'm not—the Phantom Troupe—I'm not going to kill anymore. We do philanthropy sometimes. I think we'll do it a lot more." _Regardless of whether you stay with me or not. "_ I want to be someone you could be proud of."

Kurapika pushed a book side. "You are."

"Huh?" Chrollo blinked.

Kurapika hunched over. "You came for me. You—even if you hadn't said that, that you want to change is obvious, and that—that—it gives me hope." He wiped at his eyes. "In that room, the only thoughts that kept me sane were of people—Oito, Woble, Melody, Leorio, Killua, Gon. And you."

Chrollo's heart leaped.

"Why?" Kurapika asked. "Why did you come for me?"

"Because," said Chrollo. "You—matter to me—you have value—and I've been a fool. I'm such a fool, Kurapika." He doubled over, burying his face in his hands.

All lives had value, didn't they? He'd just never wanted to see that, because then he'd hate fate or God or whatever for writing him as a nobody in Meteor City. But either way, he became somebody, and maybe fate was not so cruel. "Because of you, I think—people matter. Life matter. And no one deserves a life like that, no matter how cruel the gods are. I'd rather fight." He couldn't even look at Kurapika. _I'm so ashamed._ "Leorio pointed it out to me. I'm—just as greedy as that—I'm—I—" _But you._

_If all lives have value, can I dare to hope that mine does, too?_

Kurapika touched his arm."I—forgive you, Chrollo."

He blinked. "You don't have to. I don't—you don't owe me for saving you. I'd do it again." _You're that precious to me._

"I forgave you a long time ago. I mean, not that long. A few days. A week or so. I don't know actually when it happened, not exactly. I just know that it did, and by the time you said you liked me, I—" He was quiet. "It made me happy."

Chrollo _believed_ him. _Kurapika_ , _you are so beautiful._

Kurapika gave an awkward laugh. "It's weird not to have Emperor Time anymore—or to be able to use a lot of my nen powers." He frowned at his empty hand. "I have no need for revenge against you anymore. Was that how you felt, when I—"

"Sort of," said Chrollo. "It was—only because of that though, that I realized how much they meant to me. I meant something to them, and I had always taken that for granted." He lowered his head. "I always did want a family, I suppose. I just never admitted it, even to myself."

"I know what you mean," Kurapika said.

Chrollo nodded.

"I'm glad," said Kurapika. "That you came. I didn't think you would. You know—remembering them—my friends—and you, and—" His face reddened. "That night—that memory of you was one of the main things that kept me going, in that prison."

"So you really don't regret it?" Chrollo could kick himself. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Kurapika frowned. "No? Truth to be told, Chrollo…" A tear ran down his face. "I'm glad it was you."

"I meant it when I said I had feelings for you," said Chrollo. "I do, I mean. I know—you've been through so much, so I don't want to pressure—if you need time, I'll be here. If you want to just be friends, that's okay too. I want to—you make me _happy_."

Kurapika's jaw dropped. "I have—feelings for you too."

Chrollo's breath hitched.

"It might be—I don't know—how I feel about—doing anything physical for awhile." His face turned. "But I—"

"You're special," said Chrollo. "I'll wait. Whenever you're ready. I don't want to—"

"So are we together?" asked Kurapika. His eyes lit up, and they were red.

Chrollo could hardly breathe. He nodded.

"Are you going tonight?" Kurapika asked.

He shook his head. "Someone with nen's gotta stay here and guard you. And also Alluka, Kalluto, Oito, and Woble. I volunteered."

"I'm relieved," Kurapika said. He reached out and took Chrollo's hand. "It's going to suck waiting."

"It is," Chrollo agreed, shifting so that he was sitting closer to Kurapika. Kurapika leaned his head on his shoulder. Chrollo's chest felt as if it would burst.

With his free hand, Kurapika gestured towards the books. "So. What's your favorite book?"


	20. A Corner of the World

Hisoka stretched his arms. He was still trying to adjust to having limbs again, thanks to Illumi. Thanks to Illumi's sister.

"Are you ready for this?" Illumi asked him as they all gathered in the living area of this poor house. Kalluto, Alluka, Milluki, Oito, Woble, Kurapika, and Chrollo would be staying at the residence. Cheadle was already gone, arguing with the stiffs who ran the Hunter Association. For whatever good it would do her.

Hisoka shrugged. "I'm always ready for a fight."

Illumi rolled his eyes.

He couldn't wait to kill Cathuria. Of course, they were supposed to be prioritizing rescue. But that's what the Phantom Troupe was for. Hisoka had never even allowed himself to dream about killing this man, but now his fingers were itching to tear him apart.

"Good luck," Kurapika said to them all. Chrollo looked worried as he surveyed his troupe.

 _Relax_. Hisoka was quite certain they could take care of themselves.

"Phinks," said Oito, holding Woble. "Make sure you come back safe. Please."

Phinks's eyes widened. Hisoka almost laughed. Damn, he was in deep. "Of course."

Machi smirked.

"Remember our first raid together?" Chrollo asked. "Back in Meteor City?"

Hisoka had no idea what he was talking about, but Feitan, Machi, and Phinks all nodded.

"Have a good time," said Chrollo. "Make sure they learn their lesson." He looked at Hisoka.

Hisoka understood.  _Kill him._ After what the man did to Kurapika, Chrollo did not want to let him live. How convenient.

They headed out. The moment the building came into view—from the looks of it, a typical office building. Fitting it crushed souls too. Most people meandering through the streets, lovers hanging onto each other's arms and even kids tottering ahead of their parents, had no idea what was inside.

The troupe and the hunters dispersed. "Kil," called Illumi. "Be safe." He looked at Killua and at Gon, who was an idiot for coming even if Hisoka respected him for that. Hey, at least Chrollo had agreed that Kalluto shouldn't come.

"Which floor should we break into?" Illumi asked.

Hisoka toyed with Bungee Gum. "We're using the main entrance."

Illumi smirked. They calmly approached the entrance.

"Excuse me," called a man dressed in a security officer uniform, gray and buttoned down, ordinary. "I'm afraid that unless you have passes, I cannot allow you—"

"Did we ask?" Illumi said, hurling needles at him.

Screams erupted from inside. Hisoka broke into a run. Red carpet, elaborate wooden paneling, gold chandeliers. All at a cost not even Hisoka could understand.

Oh, but wasn't that a lie? He could understand it. But Cathuria and his ilk were cowards, choosing to operate from the shadows instead of fighting directly for some kind of enjoyment like he did. Hisoka tossed cards in the air. An explosion rocked another part of the building. Feitan was not holding back. Acrid smoke poured through the building. Alarms sounded. People flooded, frantic to escape. Hisoka lost Illumi in the crowd, but he spotted a group of kids clutching each other. He jabbed his finger towards the exit. The kids scrambled away.

Hisoka wound his way through the corridors, wondering if the building had been designed deliberately to be a maze. Maybe whoever designed it had this particular purpose in mind. Well, if so, he would tear it down. He had a mission.

Was this fun?

 _I have a job to do. A goal. It'll be fun. It'll be satisfying, fun or not._  Hisoka's throat tightened. He could make it fun. The voices lessened, and quiet took over. If he remembered correctly, the auction hall was in the basement, but—

A woman with jewels in her nose raced by. Hisoka held a card to her throat. "Where's Cathuria?"

* * *

Kurapika hated feeling useless. But he didn't have much choice. He couldn't even use nen right now.

He and Chrollo were trying to play Gungi. Even though he could only half-concentrate, Kurapika was winning. Pretty easily. Though Chrollo hadn't quite figured out yet that he was falling into a trap. Kurapika smirked to himself.

"Fun game," Chrollo commented. It was his first time playing.

"The world champion died in the ant war," Kurapika said. "Palm was telling me earlier today she fell in love with the king, and he fell in love with her. They died playing together."

"How tragic," Oito commented as she watched. Woble was asleep.

 _At the very least, they weren't alone._ Kurapika wondered what Gon and Killua thought of her loss.

"Where will you go?" Chrollo asked, looking to Oito. He watched as Kurapika slid his archer closer to position. "After this is over?"

"I don't know," Oito answered honestly. "I have—my family back in Kakin—they won't be pleased, I don't think. They didn't really want me in the first place, so—I doubt they'd want me now."

"I thought you'd stay with Phinks," Chrollo said. He covered his chin with his hand, scowling at the board. Kurapika tried to maintain a stoic mask, as if he wasn't able to perfectly predict what move Chrollo would feel he had to take next.

Oito flushed. "If he'll have me."

Chrollo snorted. "I think it's more like if you would have him."

"I'm hardly proficient in nen. It takes me days to learn a simple task." Oito sighed, gripping her knees. "I'm the opposite of gifted. I'd be a burden."

"Bullshit," said Kurapika. "I mean—" He flushed. "I gave my all for nen, and now I—can't even use it." Chrollo moved his pawn as Kurapika expected him to.  _Fool_. He pretended to think to throw Chrollo off.

Oito laughed. And then she grew somber. "When you used Stealth Dolphin for me, were you risking your life for it? Or shaving your lifespan?"

Kurapika reddened. He nodded.

"Never," said Oito. " _Ever_  do that again."

"I won't," Kurapika promised. "I can't, anyways. I'm going to have to start from the beginning, try to figure out a new kind of specialization and conjuration."

"Can I help with that?" Chrollo asked.

"I'm scared. No." Kurapika liked teasing. "And Oito, it was—for your life, and Woble's, I—"

"Your life matters too," Oito said. "But thank you." She lowered her chin. "I never thought when I was stupid and silly and chasing after those things, that it would affect so many people, risk so many lives."

"If it wasn't for you, it would have been for someone else," Kurapika said. He slid his archer again. "I—I'm sorry."

"You know," said Chrollo. "It'd be fun to have a baby around. I mean, not on dangerous jobs. But—"

"There would be risks, wouldn't there be?" Oito said. She sighed. "I can't—I don't want to risk Woble, but—there's no life without risks, is there?"

"If you did come," said Kurapika. "I could still be your bodyguard."

Chrollo started. "Does that mean—?"

"If you'll have me," said Kurapika. "I know being nenless means I can't really be of use to your group, but I want to be with you."  _I want to have hope, and you_ —

Chrollo's eyes misted.

"It's your turn," Kurapika reminded him.

Chrollo glared at the board. He went to move his queen.  _Good_.

"May I offer a suggestion?" asked Oito. She tapped Chrollo's archer. "Move this one instead. You're about one move away from falling into his checkmate."

"Hey!" Kurapika yelped.

"I didn't spend so much time in Kakin and not learn strategic thinking," Oito teased.

"Team up," Chrollo said, gesturing. "Let's—"

" _Kurapika! Chrollo!"_

Kurapika jumped, rattling the board.

Milluki burst into the room, panting. "They're gone!"

"What?" asked Chrollo.

"Who?" demanded Oito, but they all knew.

_Kalluto. Alluka._

"What do we do?" whispered Milluki, clutching his head.

"You have to go," said Chrollo. "You have to. There are two of us proficient in nen here at the moment and one is me and one is you, and you have to go and warn them. These are your siblings!"

"I can't!" Milluki shouted at him. He curled his fists. "I can't! I can—leaving the house was—"

"You did it the other day," Oito pointed out.

Milluki's lips twisted. "If I—there are—"

_You're afraid._

Kurapika couldn't relate. He'd always wanted to leave. To explore.

He wished he'd wanted to stay, or appreciated when he couldn't go, not just yet. Sometimes.

"Well, you're doing it!" Chrollo yelled, and Milluki's eyes flashed with a defiance Kurapika had seen in Killua before.

"We'll go," Kurapika said, getting to his feet. He jostled the Gungi board. The pieces slid onto the floor. "We'll go, too. I can't leave Killua's siblings in a—in that kind of place." His stomach tightened. He felt like he would vomit.

"Kurapika—" snapped Chrollo.

He grabbed Chrollo's hand. "You'll be with me. We'll stick together."

Chrollo swallowed.

"I can help Leorio with patients," Oito said. "I'll take Woble with me. It won't be dangerous there, not really."

Kurapika met Milluki's gaze. "So let's all go. Together. Okay?"  _You won't have to go alone._

Milluki was still white as a ghost, but he nodded.

* * *

"Come here," Gon encouraged, coaxing a grown man out of hiding in a closet. "We're here to help."

"I'm scared!" cried the man.

Killua stood back, electricity at ready. His stomach churned. He remembered the human pets of the Chimera Ants. And he'd yelled at Gon when Gon insisted on coming tonight. " _What do you have to prove?"_

Because Gon had nothing to prove to Killua. He didn't need his nen, he didn't need his strength, he didn't need anything besides being who he was. But Killua didn't know how to say that.

Was it even possible to communicate to someone that they were enough?

 _This_ _—this is why I want to be with you, Gon_. Gon reaching his hand out, pulling a terrified, traumatized person out of a dark closet. Prioritizing rescue, now. Because he'd learned, and he was pulling Killua along, and Killua could carry him where needed.

"Let's get him outside," Killua said.

"There's a fire that way!" yelled Gon as Killua prepared to use Godspeed.

A fire? From Feitan's explosion, or something else? Killua was fairly certain no one in their group planned to use fire. He ran deeper into the building then, hauling Gon and the man with him.

And then he froze. A woman aimed a gun directly at Gon. "Stop!" Killua screamed.

And her arm tore off. The man Killua was carrying gasped. Gon yelped, ducking the bullet. The woman collapsed, holding her shoulder, and Kalluto stood behind her, fan out.

"What are you doing here?" Killua bellowed.

The woman fumbled for her gun before yelping, her body tangled in nen threads. "I don't think so," Machi snarled. She glared at Kalluto. "You're in trouble."

"I'm not sorry," Kalluto sassed.

"Well, you're sticking with me whether you like it or not." Machi's nen thread wrapped around his wrist.

Heat from a nearby fire spread through the hallway.  _This place is hell._ A horrible thought occurred to Killua. "Where's Alluka?"

"She was with Feitan," said Kalluto. "I mean, he found us, and then I ran off."

"Of course you did." At least if someone could protect—

The building trembled. Killua's breath hitched.

"Run!" bellowed Machi.

He grabbed the man, now unconscious, again and took off. A chandelier swung wildly above. Either this was a conveniently timed earthquake, or someone wanted to get rid of the building and everyone inside.

"Killua! Gon!" Palm raced towards them. "I—" But someone else ran towards her from the other direction, a gun outstretched.

" _Palm!"_ shrieked Gon.

A knife appeared in the man's throat. He keeled over. Palm gaped.

"I do know how to murder; it's like the first thing I learned," Milluki said, panting.

"What are you doing here?" yelled Killua.

"We came after  _you_ , brat!" He pointed at Kalluto, who turned green. "Alluka—"

Palm covered her eye. "She's okay—she's heading towards where Illumi is; he'll—"

Oh, fuck. Illumi might have changed, but had he changed this much? Killua did not trust Illumi. He just couldn't. He would never forget Illumi stretching his arm out, asking Killua to kill— "If—"

"Isn't Feitan with her?" Machi demanded.

"No," Palm said. She covered her eye again, brow furrowing. "He's—his legs are—he's under some rubble—"

"Where?" Machi yelled.

"Machi—" Kalluto tried. "I thought you weren't supposed to help—"

Machi turned and ran in the direction Palm pointed.

Kalluto tried to chase after her. Milluki grabbed him by the waist. Kalluto kicked, but Milluki was still stronger. "Stop it, you stupid brat!" Milluki shouted.

"Palm," choked out Killua. "I have to—take this man, please, I have to—Alluka—I can't trust Illumi. I just can't—"  _I can't trust him I can't I can't I can't why?_

"Killua," said Gon. "You—"

"I can't!" he screamed. He turned, remembering all the times Illumi—

Gon's hand flew up to smack him on the neck. Right in a particular spot, one of the earliest tricks Illumi had taught him.

The world went black, and Killua's legs gave out.

* * *

Illumi searched through the halls. The fire was on the upper levels for now, but he had to get out before another tremor. He just couldn't leave anyone behind, or Killua would know he prioritized a job over people yet again, and he couldn't look Killua in the eyes if that was the case.

_Run away._

_Don't take on a challenge you can't win._

_I can win. I can win._

He never could. He was running through sand, trying to live. He didn't even know how Hisoka felt about him. Then again, Hisoka had ditched him here.  _What if you get bored?_

A scream. Illumi whipped about. He knew the sound of true terror, though he'd only heard it a few times. Father and Grandfather drilled it into him how to not get caught, how to kill silently. It was easier, they said, for you.

And now Illumi remembered now. The sound was shattering, like a glass window imploding all over him. Illumi felt it echoing in his chest cavity, bruising his ribs.

Killua. He wouldn't run away, if he heard that sound.  _I'm not brave. I never have been._

_I'm scared._

Another scream, and it reminded Illumi of Killua thrashing from a nightmare after his first kill. Illumi told his parents he had the nightmare, so they wouldn't punish Killua and would punish him instead. And then Illumi forced Killua to watch him kill, so it wouldn't happen again.

 _I want a fraction of your courage, Killua._  Illumi thumped down the corridor, towards the sound. It came again, and third time, and he ran faster. His heart thumped in his chest, loud. His breaths came fast, shaken. He raced down a flight of stairs, and then—

Cathuria.

With  _Alluka. K_ icking, screaming, clawing to get free. But he was trying to shove her through a black door.

 _How is she here?_ Illumi hurled the needle automatically. He leaped down the stairs, air boiling here. They must be closer to the fire. His hair stuck to his face, his neck. "Stop!"

"Illu—"

"Oh, you," said Cathuria, holding Alluka in a chokehold. "You won't mind, I presume. She's hardly the one you're worried about. Isn't she just a nuisance to you?" He was calm, so calm, the door waiting behind him.

" _You're_  a nuisance to me," Illumi replied. He couldn't kill him. Hisoka had to. But he— _you bastard._

What if Hisoka hadn't killed him yet because Hisoka was hurt? Or worse?

"Why?" Catheria ask. He tightened his grip around Alluka, who looked as if she could hardly breathe. "Because I offended your fiancé long ago? Hasn't everyone?"

"You're pissing me off now," Illumi managed. "Let her go."  _I'm not leaving. I won't run. I won't run. I won't I won't I won't I won't!_  "Let go of my sister!"

"You don't want me to let her go," Cathuria said. "This is what's best for the Zoldyck family, isn't it?"

"I said to  _let her go!"_ Illumi had to be careful. If he didn't aim the throw precisely, the needle could hit Alluka.

"This way I'll take care of a problem for you," Cathuria continued, as if he hasn't heard a word Illumi said. The floor started to tremble again. "She's nothing but a burden, right? She or he? Since when did you even start calling her your sister? Also, the only reason you want me to let him go isn't for his sake or hers or whatever. It's for yours. For Killua's, because you think that if you save her Killua might love you again, and if you don't his hatred of you might only grow. You can't fix what you did to him. He's going to hate you forever."

Alluka's eyes met Illumi's. Pleading. Streaming.

Illumi felt cold. He braced himself against the shaking. "Bullshit."  _Maybe_ _—maybe_ _—but_ —

 _If that's Killua's choice_ —

 _That's Killua's choice. It's not yours._ "She's my sister." And he wondered, briefly, what Killua must have felt what he tore that needle out of his skull.

Cathuria laughed. "You're a liar. You don't think of her that way. And even if you do, you only think of your siblings as things to control. Kalluto told me all about it. You can't save them, Illumi. You never could. You can't protect them—you hurt—"

Illumi shivered. Nausea welled up. But—

_He's right._

_He's wrong._

_I can't protect them, not forever. The world is too vast._

_For now, though, I can protect her_. "I said to  _let her go,_  and I'm fucking tired of repeating myself!"

Cathuria's mouth opened just as a roar echoed.

He hurled the needle as Cathuria ditched Alluka, lunging out of the stairwell as part of it collapsed. Bricks and mortar tumbled down around them. Illumi could make it out the door, into the corridor, but—Alluka couldn't.

Illumi flung himself down the remaining stairs, grabbing his sister. He curled his body around her. "It's okay. I've got you. I'm here."

He looked up only to see that they were trapped in rubble. Oh God—oh God—I failed—I'm—

"Nii-san," whimpered Alluka. She tried to shift, and he noticed her arm dangling at a sickening angle.

"You're hurt!"  _I have to get us out of here, I have to—_  It was too tight for him to even straighten from his crouched position.

She tugged at his hair. "You're not hurt?"

"I—" He twitched his limbs, his digits. "I suppose not..."

"I'm glad," she managed, looking as if she was barely hanging onto consciousness. Bruises marred her throat from where that bastard had grabbed her.

_You're—glad. For me._

_Alluka, I_ —

He couldn't break down now. He shouldn't. He needed to get them out.

But he had no idea what to do, but she was still alive and he felt like he might not have failed, not quite.

* * *

Cathuria fell flat on his face, trapped in Bungee Gum the moment he burst out of that staircase which was now smoking.

"Ah. We finally meet again." Chaos erupting around him meant nothing. Hisoka approached the pathetic little man, nudging him with his shoe.

"So you did remember me," panted Cathuria.

Hisoka kicked him in the ribs. One snapped. The crack sounded less satisfying than he'd hoped. "Only when I felt like it."

"Oh, but when did you feel like it? Do you feel like being here now?"

"I feel like killing you." Hisoka used Bungee Gum to flip him over. He wanted the man to look him in the eye when he killed him.

"You'll die soon," mocked Cathuria. "You, who is nothing without your nen. I saw you fascinated by that black door long before I ever—"

"I suppose I did like magic tricks. But not your sort." He liked being transported elsewhere as a kid. Imagining thing. Imagining happiness, before life crushed it and he realized the only things that would make him feel like he belonged in this world was killing and getting off. Because they made him feel, and they made others feel, convinced him that his life was his, that he wasn't trapped in some kind of nightmarish alternate reality.

"Aren't you made of nen now?"

Hisoka snorted. "Not anymore. See, a little girl is far more powerful than you will ever be."

Cathuria's eyes popped. His lips curved. "The same one who just got buried in the staircase?"

Hisoka stiffened. He planted his heel on the man's throat, digging into the hollow. "Liar."

"You can tell when I'm lying, can't you?"

He had to be lying. Alluka wasn't here.

Then again, Hisoka knew enough about the Zoldyck kids to— _oh, fuck._

"Well?" wheezed Cathuria. "I'm waiting."

Hisoka jabbed his heel in deeper.  _When you appeared years ago, I thought you would give me hope. I felt_ _—I felt_ _—and then you_ —

_Run._

_Go._

The thoughts echoed in Illumi's voice. Hisoka cussed. If Alluka really was buried...

_Fucking hell!_

Cathuria leered up at him, mouth open like it had been years ago. And Hisoka wanted nothing more than to kill him, not for his own pleasure, because killing him would certainly not arouse him, but because he wanted to stomp on this man who didn't matter, who'd cut him apart into pieces he didn't even realize were severed until Illumi was in him and he felt whole.

_You are no one. Illumi is someone._

_And I want to be alive._

He turned and ran towards the stairwell, wedging open the door. Cathuria cackled. "Coward!"

"That," Hisoka hollered over his shoulder. "Is a lie."  _And fuck you_. At the very least, he still had someone to run to. _I win_. He examined the pile of stones, coughing in the dust. "Alluka!" _Please don't be dead._  If she was, Illumi wouldn't recover, and Hisoka did not want that. He could not contemplate the idea of that hope, that light, the love for his family that kept him afloat, the hope that he might be loved by them, going out. Hisoka needed to keep it aflame. Illumi deserved it. And Alluka... she saved his life, gave him his limbs again, because she was something he couldn't even begin to contemplate. So strong, and he had no desire to fight her. " _Alluka!"_ He tore a nail, digging through the rubble. "Alluka!"

"Hisoka!" came a muffled cry.

"Illumi?" Hisoka asked in disbelief. He was here?

"We're trapped—"

"I can—get us out—" Alluka panted.

"Your arm is broken," lllumi barked. "You're almost unconscious, maybe don't—"

"You—"

"Hey Alluka," said Hisoka, his voice shaking. "Hang on, okay? Trust me. I'll get you out." He grabbed one of the slabs of concrete, using Bungee Gum to push it. He gritted his teeth. "I'm coming." He'd do whatever it took to get them out. His nail tore off. Blood streaked concrete. He shoved what remained of a stair aside. "Also Illumi. You too."

"Need help?" asked a voice. He turned to see Machi standing there, Feitan barely conscious on her back and with his legs dangling at sickening angles.

"No." He turned back to the staircase, knowing that if Machi was here, she would help.

"You're welcome." Machi set Feitan down.

Feitan groaned. "Ma—leave—"

"I'm not leaving you, dumbass," snapped Machi. She wrapped her nen threads around the slab, pulling.

The stone rolled away enough. Hisoka thrust his arm down. Illumi lifted Alluka up to him. Her arm definitely was broken, and she was crying. Machi took her. And then Hisoka grabbed Illumi, pulling him out. His fiancé's face was streaked with grit and dirt, his cheek scraped. "Did you do it?"

"While you were trapped?" Hisoka hesitated, and then pulled Illumi against his chest, gripping the back of his skull. "Now you owe me."

But it wasn't like that, and he knew it. Illumi pulled him up, a soft smile on his lips. Dust and grit stuck to his cheeks. He'd never looked hotter.

Shouts echoed behind them.

* * *

"I'll join Leorio," Oito had said, and that was that. Kurapika and Chrollo went racing after those two wayward Zoldycks, with Milluki in tow. And now they were here.

Kurapika had come across Palm and Milluki and Kalluto, and Gon hauling an unconscious Killua out of the building. Gon was sobbing, unable to fully speak, but he said something about Alluka, and Kurapika  _promised_. He promised.

_I'll save her._

Chrollo nodded, and they took off together. Kurapika's skin crawled searching the building in the direction Palm pointed, but he refused to pause. He had to charge ahead. And now he skidded to a stop.

Cathuria dragged himself by his elbows. He appeared to be gagging, bleeding from his lips, from a gash to his forehead. The windows in the room were gone, shattered. Kurapika's shoes crunched glass. And the door to what looked like a stairwell flung open. Hisoka burst out with Machi, a barely conscious Feitan on her back, and Illumi, carrying Alluka in his arms.

 _"Danchou?"_  Machi panted. Feitan moaned as if in agony.

Kurapika glanced at Hisoka. Cathuria spotted him and let out a wheeze.

"Your windpipe should be partially crushed," Hisoka informed him. "But I have nothing further to say to you, and you have nothing further to say to me, so it's just as well."

But Cathuria wasn't focusing on Hisoka, and Hisoka knew it and he was trying to  _help_. He was looking at Kurapika. "Came back for more, little Kurta?"

Chrollo's face changed, and he flung himself at Cathuria, sending a kick into the man's abdomen. He whipped out his book, and whether he was going to implant fireworks in the man's spine or send Indoor Fish after him or what, Kurapika couldn't imagine. For now, though, with his free hand, Chrollo sent blow after blow into the man's face. The fingertips clawed at the man's face, his eyes.

"Stop!" Kurapika's voice wavered. He realized he was kneeling. And he was shaking. And in Kurapika's hand was a large shard of glass.

Chrollo paused, knuckles dripping in blood. His face was twisted in a rage that looked all too familiar. "You—you—fucking cunt motherfucker shithead dick son of a bitch—" Each word came out tinted with even more rage than the last, boiling to a crescendo. He took a shard of glass himself, slashing the man's face.

"Chrollo!" Kurapika bellowed. "I—"

Chrollo stopped. He was shaking. A bloody hand rose to his own face, covering his chin. He tried to catch his breath.

"Did you miss a swear?" Illumi asked dryly.

Kurapika looked to Hisoka.

Hisoka pressed his lips together, and then gestured for Illumi and Alluka to follow him out. "Machi—"

"Take him." Machi handed Hisoka Feitan.

"I'd—rather—die," Feitan groused, indignant. "Mach—I—never—forgive you—"

"Shut up. Yes you will." Machi grabbed Chrollo, holding him back, because Kurapika had the feeling that if Cathuria opened his mouth again Chrollo would crush every single tooth and finish gouging out the man's eyes with his bare hands.

_I don't want to make you feel this way._

Cathuria seemed to realize that it was over for him as Kurapika approached. He rolled his eyes. A broken man, face swollen and sliced, maroon and white bone and purple. "He's no better—you know. Thinks of you—just as something—we're—the same—"

Chrollo let out a scream. Machi struggled. And Kurapuka didn't care what this bastard said. He knew the way Chrollo looked at him, and he knew why Chrollo was so angry. For the same reason Kurapika wanted to protect his friends. For the same reason Kurapika couldn't let Chrollo's life be at risk.

"Dramatic speech about how you're better than me? How it didn't—matter for you? I still remember—your eyes turned—you were prettier than any—"

"That's a lie," Kurapika cut him off. "You don't remember me as any different. I—remember you, though." And Chrollo, and Chrollo was everything and this bastard—he was nothing.

No, he was someone. But he wasn't going to be someone to Kurapika, not anymore, even if Kurapika never could forget him. Someone, like Chrollo, like Kurapika, someone angry, someone maybe too far gone, someone whom Kurapika didn't want to think about any more and didn't want to let hurt anyone else. The humiliation that crawled underneath his skin, that smoldered in Hisoka's eyes...

"You think you can just—wash me away—didn't affect you at all, you and your thieving, murdering—"

"No," Kurapika said, digging his fingers into the edges of the glass. "It  _did_  matter to me."  _You kidnapped me. You raped me. You tried to sell me as a slave, like a piece of meat. You tried to take my relationship with Chrollo and twist it, and I will never forgive you._

"If you hadn't been so—"

"It is not your fault," Chrollo burst out, Machi literally using her nen threads to hold him back. "It wasn't—Kurapika— _don't_  listen to him!"

Kurapika crouched next to Cathuria. His heart pounded. He met Chrollo's eyes.  _You don't fault me_.

_It wasn't my fault._

None of it was. Not until he made his chains, the chains Nanika removed.

_You don't want me to feel this way._

_It mattered, but I am not what happened. Not with you, not to my tribe._ He looked down at his hands, tightening around the shard.

"You're one to talk," rasped Cathuria, sliding his eyes towards Chrollo. Machi looked as if she was suddenly contemplating letting Chrollo out of her nen threads.

_You forgave me for what was my fault, Chrollo. But this wasn't my fault._

_And I forgave you. And now_ —

I  _don't want to feel this way._ Kurapika felt a sting. Blood dribbled down the glass, dripping onto the floor. He'd cut his palm, and a fingertip. "Let's call the hunters to deal with him," said Kurapika. "They ought to ensure he stays in prison and never hurts another person again." He dropped the glass. A clink, and then a crunch when he stood, foot pulverizing it.

Chrollo gaped at him.

Kurapika hesitated, and then he stomped Cathuria in the balls. The man let out a howl that his injured windpipe cut off. "Do you have what you need to steal his nen?"

Chrollo conjured his book. He nodded. "Are you—sure?"

Cathuria was too busy moaning to protest.

Kurapika nodded. "We'll have Alluka destroy it later." He couldn't even look at Cathuria any more. He didn't want to, and he didn't have to. He turned his back.

Chrollo scribbled down a few words. Machi shook her head and ran out. Chrollo snapped his book shut.

Kurapika reached out his bloody hand and took Chrollo's. "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! One chapter left!


	21. Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! It's like the size of two chapters though it just kept... getting longer.

Killua's eyelids pried open. He bolted upright. A simple bed, bunk beds, and he was on the bottom one. A forest green carpet. A desk. He was in the house they'd been staying at—did that mean the raid was over? His head throbbed. His stomach churned.

"Onii-chan!" Alluka threw her arms around him.

 _Alluka!_ He grabbed her. _You're okay_ —

Killua lifted his head. Kalluto stood across the room, and Gon too. "What—"

"Everyone was freed," Gon reported, rubbing his head. "And it's all over the news."

"Did we all—"

"Everyone's alive. Some injuries. Including yours. Feitan broke his legs."

"I helped heal them," Alluka reported. Kalluto smiled.

Killua sucked in his breath.

She gripped Killua's hand. "Onii-chan, you have to let me take care of—you have to let me help when I can. Nanika wants to. _I_ want to. I'm not an assassin, but I don't want to be useless either, and as long as you're going into danger, I don't want to just—wait around. You wouldn't." Her eyes, blue like his, round like Illumi's, met his, and they burned.

She wasn't wrong. Killua gulped. "I just—"

"Trust me," she requested, and the way she looked now, even despite her actions last night—she was growing. And he loved her even if it scared him.

"I will," he managed. "I just—you two put Oito and Woble in danger, with everyone coming to find you—"

Alluka pressed her lips together. "I'm sorry." Her chin trembled. "I just wanted to be useful, too. Kalluto and me, both. Illumi saved me."

"Huh?"

"Don't freak out," Gon began. "But that Cathuria grabbed her and tried to push her through the door."

Killua's chest clenched.

"But Illumi saved me," Alluka said. "Even when that man told him I was—useless, and he'd be glad to be rid of me. He threw his needles at him, he told him to shut up, the staircase collapsed and he protected me."

 _Illumi, you really saved her?_ Killua's head swam. He felt like the surface was right there, but he was afraid to break above it and breathe. "Trust me too, okay?" Killua choked out. "I feel—I feel guilty, for not protecting you, for letting them do what they did to you—or letting both of you feel ignored—be ignored—" He curled his fists.

"But you said you won't anymore," Alluka said. "And you haven't. I believe you. Kalluto wants to, too."

Killua sighed. Maybe he ought to consider getting into less danger. Not that they really had much of an option with Kalluto being a member of the Troupe, which reminded Killua, he needed to find out if that tattoo could be removed and also where the hell it even was. But not just now.

"Trust goes both ways," Alluka said. Kalluto nodded. She held out her hand. Killua swallowed. He shook it.

"Besides," said Kalluto, tossing his hair. "Oito and Woble are fine."

They might not have been, but Killua opted not to mention that.

"Oito kissed Phinks when he got back," Kalluto added. He smiled, and Killua was struck by how little he'd ever seen his youngest brother smile, and how much he must really care about the Troupe. "He was so surprised."

"I guess that means she forgives him," Killua commented. Gon laughed. Kalluto giggled. He looked at Killua as if he had more to say, but didn't know how to say it. And Killua knew what it was, and what he should say. "I'm not mad, Kalluto. I still like you." And he meant it.

Alluka clapped her hands together. Kalluto's face flushed, but he smiled.

Alluka and Kalluto left, and Gon turned to Killua. "Sorry I knocked you out."

"No," said Killua. "It was—"

"What you were saying to Alluka and Kalluto," said Gon. "About putting others in danger because they didn't want to feel useless. That was—like the same thing."

Killua slid his eyes towards Gon. The sun shone in through the window, encasing them both in light.

"Okay, I'm not one to talk," Gon said, face flushing. He laughed, and the sound pulled him up to the air.

"I don't want to lose them," Killua said. His voice sounded thick. "I've—I mean, I've taken so many people from their loved ones. That was what we did. Our family. And that was—"

"I don't care. I never have."

"Well, maybe you should!"

"Well, maybe I do, but I still think you're my friend!" Gon barked. "If Kurapika and Chrollo can be dating, than I can forgive you for killing people, and if you can forgive me for what I did during the ant invasion, then— _you're not that special."_

Killua's eyes popped. He tucked his knees into his chest and rested his chin on them. Tears blurred his vision. He thought of all the times his parents and grandparents calling him the heir, giving him special treatment, expecting more, expecting— _what if it rubbed off me?_

Gon gave him a smile, face sheepish. He put his hand on Killua's shoulder.

_You changed._

_If it did, then I can, too._

He leaned in, resting his chin on Gon's shoulder. "Thank you."

"Welcome," Gon said. He held him.

Killua pulled back. "Gon, I—"

The door banged open. Killua yelped.

"Killua, we have a problem!" bellowed Leorio, panting. "Your parents and grandfather just showed up, and I really want to punch them."

 _Fuck_. Killua turned white.

"Illumi said he'd talk to them," Chrollo's voice came from the hallway. Kurapika appeared behind Leorio, scowling and with his eyes ignited red.

"I trust Illumi together with my parents about as much as I trust a shark with seals," Killua responded. And Illumi was the seal, and he did not want to see his brother torn to shreds, not when Illumi was making so much progress, not ever. He got to his feet. "I'll go—they're not getting Alluka or Kalluto back. I don't care what I have to do."

"Agreed," said Chrollo. He produced Bandit's Secret.

 _Ugh, do I really have to tolerate you too now?_ Given that Kurapika was holding Chrollo's hand, he supposed so. Gross. But inside, he felt warm.

"If you're going to talk to them," said Gon. "I am too. I mean, I'll go with you."

"They'll insult you if they know you're nenless," Killua warned.

"I don't care." Gon's eyes blazed with that same fire that first drew Killua to him. He nodded.

" _We'll_ go with you," Kurapika corrected.

They made their way down to the living area, where Zeno Zoldyck leaned against a bookshelf, a small smirk on his face. Dad sat on the couch, crossing his arms and legs spread wide as if to assert his power. Illumi stood across from him, Hisoka leaning against the opposing wall. Mom stood behind him, wringing her hands. She let out a shriek when she saw him. "Kil!"

He let her hug him. His chest tightened.

" _You_ ," Dad said, watching Chrollo. He glared at Killua. "You were supposed to stay away from the Phantom Troupe."

"Ah, a shame," said Chrollo. He smoothed his hair. "Here I was enjoying having two of your sons as members and the other as an ally, and your daughter as an ally as well."

"I have no daughter."

"Well, looks like we do now." Chrollo kept a pleasant smile on his face.

Grandfather looked as if he was trying not to laugh. "Still just as cheeky as ever."

"Of course." Chrollo gave a mock bow and stepped back, towards Kurapika.

"Oh shit," said Milluki's voice. Alluka and Kalluto hid behind him as they entered the room. Machi, Feitan, and Palm followed, and then Phinks and Oito and Woble as well.

"Who are all these people?" Mom squeaked.

"Kalluto new family," said Feitan. "The Spiders." Machi crossed her arms, planting her feet next to Kalluto.

Dad's face turned purple. He looked as if he was contemplating throttling Chrollo, who was currently still smiling as if they were discussing how lovely the tea was. Grandfather clucked his tongue.

"Kalluto and I have joined the Spiders," Illumi said, trying to placate. "It's true." His voice sounded so emotionless. So like he had been for so many years. It hurt Killua to hear that again. He wondered if it hurt Illumi to speak like that, or if that was the only way he could protect himself.

"I presume it's for a job. Please explain to me why I'm missing so much money from my account," Silva said.

"I'll repay you," Milluki said quickly. "I needed it to get—someone inside an auction hall—"

"To kill—"

"No, to save my life," said Kurapika quietly. "It was a favor to Killua."

 _Mistake_. Killua shot daggers at him. Kurapika didn't seem as if he cared. He held his head high, unashamed.

"If you couldn't save yourself, then—"

"He's my friend. Can't betray them, right?" Killua tried to keep his voice light. He didn't even know why. He might as well let them have it, and yet the words welling up inside him wouldn't spring free.

"I'm the Kakin eighth queen," said Oito, breaking the silence. "Oito. So, you're their parents."

"As a parent yourself, surely you'd understand," Kikyo said, seizing the chance. "Milluki, Illumi, this is disgraceful. Killua, Kalluto, we're taking you home with us—and that _thing_ too, so it can't hurt anyone else anymore."

"Alluka is not a thing!" Killua managed. _Say something, Illumi. Why does it have to be me? Help me, Illumi! Please! You saved her!  
_

But his brother was silent, rigid, petrified.

"Some parents you are," Gon said, and his voice echoed with memories of his own. "Oito just gave her _everything_ to save her child from a succession war, and you lock your kids up and poison and torture them to train them to withstand it—Killua told me—"

Oito recoiled. "You _what?"_

"An eighth wife has no place—" started Silva, and Phinks aimed his fist.

"Say another word to her and I'll punch you. Do it. I'd love that opportunity." Phinks's eyes gleamed. Nobunaga and Franklin appeared in the doorway, Nobunaga with his hand on his sword.

"Illumi, how could you let this happen?" Mother cried out. She grabbed Illumi by his face. He blinked.

"Ew," said Feitan. "That not love."

"Um, we're all people who make our own decisions," said Killua. " _Dad_." He looked straight at the man whose approval he always craved. "I'm not going back home. Kalluto isn't either. Neither is Alluka. As for Illumi and Milluki, they can make their own choices." He didn't want them to go. He hoped they stayed.

"You are a child," said Dad, rising. "My child. I—"

"Whom you've never treated as a child except when it suited you," Leorio retorted, jamming his finger at Silva. "Abuser."

"You—"

"I will take responsibility for them," Illumi interjected then, and Killua's heart lifted. "Killua, Kalluto, Alluka. They are my siblings. My brothers. My sister. I'm getting married. We can take care of them."

"What?" Mom shrieked. Grandfather even lifted his eyebrows. Dad just looked shocked.

"To me," Hisoka said. He waved. "Hello, I killed your butler."

"I'm pissed at you for that," snapped Killua.

"Sorry."

"They hate you," Dad said, approaching Illumi. Illumi had to crane his neck to look him in the eye. "You're the one who put needles in—"

"Because you told Illumi to!" Milluki interjected. He squeezed his fists together as if he was bloody terrified of them yelling at him now.

"Milluki?" Mom gaped.

"You useless, fat—"

"Shut _up!"_ screamed Killua. "Don't talk to him like that!"

Milluki gaped at him. Palm Siberia stepped closer, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I might stay in Yorknew for a bit," added Milluki. "Or go with Illumi and the brats. Palm was telling me that there are—"

"The ant?" Dad's nose wrinkled. "Okay, Illumi. You want to take care of your siblings, do it. But you'll have to use your needles on me to get them, because if you don't I will have my father and your mother take them."

Illumi froze again. His eyes darted to Killua, to Hisoka, to Chrollo.

"Well?" Dad asked.

Killua waited for Illumi to move. Illumi's chest heaved. He wasn't moving, grabbing his needles.

"You can't, can you?"

Illumi looked— _terrified_. Killua wondered: until recently, he'd never gone against them, had he? Had he even to? Had he wanted them to— "Illumi!"

"You _won't_ take them," Illumi croaked out.

"Stop me, if you mean it."

"Don't worry," said Hisoka, stepping alongside Illumi. "See, where one of us is weaker, the other is stronger. For example, you've been wrapped in Bungee Gum since you entered this place. You're not touching anyone today."

"What?"

Killua used Gyo. A laugh broke from his lips. Hisoka really did have all three of the Zoldyck adults wrapped in Bungee Gum. Grandfather smirked as if he'd known from the moment they stepped in, and yet hadn't said anything.

"Bye-bye," said Hisoka. "Chrollo—"

Chrollo opened Bandit's Secret and waved his hand. They vanished outside. Hisoka used Bungee Gum to seal the door.

Milluki sank to the floor, head in his hands and trembling like a leaf in a storm. Palm crouched next to him.

Illumi couldn't look at them. He turned and rushed up the stairs.

* * *

 _I couldn't defy them._ Not even then. Not even with everything at stake. Hisoka. Killua. Alluka. Kalluto. He still—he _still_ —

At least Hisoka didn't seem to be mad at him. He came into the room and sat next to Illumi, saying nothing, but he was with him. "I'm ashamed," Illumi said finally, face buried in Hisoka's pillow because Mike wasn't here.

"I'm aware."

Illumi rolled over, looking up at Hisoka. "Why can't I—I thought I was—"

"Oh no, Illumi. What a horror. You're human. That means being afraid somethings. And you acted afraid."

"Huh?" Illumi frowned.

Hisoka leaned his head down, running his hands through Illumi's hair, untangling it. "I don't like you because you're some stupid emotionless assassin. That's boring. You've always had an empathetic side. You just pretend you don't and lock it in a vault as deep as the one you locked Alluka in."

"If you're trying to make me feel better, you're failing."

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Well, I like you because you're very human."

"You really want to marry me?" Illumi asked, focusing on the dull beige ceiling again.

"Yes, Illumi." Hisoka snorted. "Everyone has a weakness, you know. Yours is your family. And mine is you. I mean I broke off murdering someone I actually hate to haul your ass out of rubble, I think that—"

Illumi pushed himself up on his elbows. "It's not just my family."

Hisoka smirked.

"It's you," said Illumi. "It's my loved ones. And I love you."

Hisoka closed his eyes. "You saved me. Multiple times. Will you put a needle in my head to curb my recklessness?"

"No. I like you reckless. I'll just have to follow you everywhere to keep you from getting killed with whoever you decide will be fun to fight next."

Hisoka let out his breath. "To tell you the truth, Illumi, you're kind of the most fun I'll ever have. And I don't even need to be trying to kill you to have fun with you."

"Good," said Illumi.

Hisoka shifted. Illumi reached for his pants.

"Not now."

"When do you _not_ want to fuck?" Illumi demanded.

Hisoka hopped off the bed and left the room without an answer. Illumi groaned, burying his face in the pillow again. It smelled like Hisoka.

The door opened again.

"So five minutes later you want to fuck?" Illumi lifted himself up and froze.

Killua looked as if he was about to throw up. "Illu—"

"I thought you were Hisoka!" cried out Illumi. _I'm going to punch you, you fucking clown!_

Killua clamped his hands over his ears. "That doesn't make it any better!"

"Wait," Illumi managed, scrambling up. "Wait—Kil—" He stopped, hand curling.

"Hisoka said you wanted to talk to me," Killua mumbled.

 _He did?_ Well, it wasn't a lie. Words Illumi had been been practicing, reciting over and over again, jumbled together in his mind, and he wasn't sure his tongue could form them. "I—I'm sorry. To you. And to Alluka, and Kalluto—and Milluki too. I have not been a good brother. I've been—an ass. I thought I was doing it for your good, but I never asked you, and that was wrong—I know I failed you again today. I want to do better. I—I know I don't deserve that chance, though, and I'm not really going to force you to stay with me—you and Alluka and Kalluto are more than capable of taking care of yourselves." He couldn't even look Killua in the eyes. Something wet and hot stung his eyes, scalded his face. He wiped them away. "I trust you to take care of them, anyways."

"Illu-nii," whispered Killua.

"I was wrong," Illumi said. "I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong. I hurt you. Father did tell me to put the needle in your head, but I agreed with him—I was _glad_. I wanted you safe. You were—the only one who ever acted like you loved me, and I wanted that—and I wanted their approval—and I sacrificed you for it. I treated you like an object, and that's something I can't undo, but if you'll let me, I'll—" Oh, there he went again. Asking. Pleading.

" _Sorry. I was careless and he got away."_

" _Don't lie," Hisoka said. "You pitied him and granted him one last request."_

" _Well, he was going to die anyways."_

 _This is my last request. I won't ask again. If he says no_ — Hisoka would still be there. Illumi wouldn't be alone, and he wouldn't be unloved. And breath would fill his lungs, and he could hope.

"Are you afraid of them?" Killua's voice came husky. He lowered his face.

"I don't know," Illumi said. A lie. He knew the answer, throbbing in his chest. "Yes. I want—I am so scared of cutting that tie. I still want them to love me—but they won't." He let out a bitter laugh, sitting back on the edge of the bed. "Maybe they never did." The words felt like shards of glass embedding into his heart, rubbed raw.

But he was still here. Even if they'd never loved him. He was still here.

"That's how I felt about you," Killua said. "I loved you—I love you, Illumi, and I—but you—you made it dangerous. You hurt me."

"I know." He lowered his head. "It wasn't—worth it. I should have chosen you above them. Alluka, too. And Kalluto. Also Milluki, but the age gap was not so wide."

Killua said nothing.

"It's not really fair that you have to raise them," Illumi said. "You are—still so young. I wish you had the chance to be more carefree. Like your friend."

"I wish you'd had that chance, too."

Illumi gaped at him.

"Though you are marrying that clown, apparently, so you'll get a chance." Killua scowled.

"I love him," Illumi said simply.

"I know." Killua sat next to him. "You feel about him how I feel about Gon, but with more murder."

 _Gon_ _—in that way?_ Illumi felt something like panic shooting through him.

"We're kids though," Killua snapped. "Don't look so horrified."

Illumi relaxed. "Well, I'm happy—you have someone like that. You deserve it."

"I don't know," said Killua. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve to even be his friend."

"You said it yourself," said Illumi. "You're a kid. You don't have to be so harsh on yourself. You deserve—the _world_ , Killua. At least that's what I think." He'd always thought it, from the moment he held Killua in his arms as a baby.

_You were my world, because I didn't want the vaster world._

_I just wanted you._

Now, he had more. Hisoka. Kalluto. Alluka. Milluki. And he felt full.

"Illu-nii," said Killua. "Alluka told me what you did. You saved her."

Illumi flushed. He nodded. "She's my sister. I know it's cheap to say that now, but I mean it, I do."

"I know," Killua said. "You saved her. I didn't think you would." He doubled over. "I was wrong. I couldn't save her, and you did."

Illumi didn't know what to say.

"We make a good team," Killua said.

Illumi's stomach fluttered.

"Can we try? I mean—if you start acting all controlling, can I tell you, and can you listen to me? And can we try? And if you don't feel like I love you, can you say so? Can you ask me?"

Illumi swallowed. He nodded. _I may be the older brother, but you are teaching me._

 _You are the heir. Even by rejecting the family, the business, you are leading us all._ With Killua, the Zoldyck family would never be the same. And Illumi wanted to be a part of it even more. "I really do love you, Killua. You and Kalluto—Milluki—Alluka. I want to get to know her more. And Nanika, too."

"Sounds good to me," said Killua. He hesitated, and then he threw his arms around Illumi.

And Illumi broke down, and Killua—he was crying too, both of them, despite being Zoldycks and it being forbidden.

_I don't deserve you._

_I don't deserve any of this, but_ _—_ deserve _is moot. I have_ _—this is_ —

He would live his own life, from here on out. With Hisoka, and guide his siblings. _I will try._ And when he messed up, he would remember this moment. Both crying. A hug. Forgiveness. His brother, telling him he did love him.

A life with such a moment could never be hopeless, could it?

* * *

Chrollo woke to a text on his phone. _Hey, Danchou. We're outside._

Chrollo eased himself out of bed. Kurapika still slept, breaths even and deep and calm.

The Zoldyck parents gave up eventually, after almost a week of everyone essentially being trapped in that house except Cheadle, who was complaining about how exhausting these Zoldycks were. Although Chrollo had been having fun combing through his book and trying to discover which nen ability he could use to repel them next. Alluka and Kalluto were having fun too until Illumi accused him of corrupting his younger siblings and Hisoka looked as if it was killing him to have to take Chrollo's side on it.

They all had dinner together. A picnic, in a park. It was Kurapika's idea.

_"We'll meet up in five months time, all of us," Chrollo had told his troupe. "Location TBD. Don't get yourselves killed."_

_"For a wedding," Illumi added. "But not sure where we'll have it yet. Kukuroo Mountain isn't an option anymore."_

_Chrollo knew he'd wake up and find some of them gone. Maybe that was why Kurapika asked him to sleep in the same bed again._

_"You'll miss them," Kurapika said._

_Chrollo shrugged. "I know they'll be back." He couldn't protect them every moment of their lives, of his life. So he let them go, and he hoped they would return. This time, given Hisoka's engagement, they were less at risk. And he fully intended never to put them at risk again, in so far as he was able to. At least Kurapika would be there to play killjoy, as Phinks complained._

"Yo," said Machi, waiting outside his room. She had her bag slung over her back. Feitan was with her.

"You two leaving?" Chrollo asked.

Machi nodded. "We'll see you soon. Also, I told Phinks. If the Chain Bastard tries anything, call us and we will—"

"No more nails," said Feitan, eyes gleaming.

Chrollo rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. I can handle myself."

"Not around him," Feitan pointed out. "You like under a spell."

"Where are you heading?" Chrollo wanted to know.

"We heard a certain prince is being a dick in the Kakin Empire," replied Machi. "We might want to ensure he doesn't cause problems now that he's back. Also, Phinks said he, Oito, and Woble are sticking with you guys. That's good. Nasubi's probably going to be mad at her involvement in all of this. He might send someone after her."

"Let him come," said Chrollo. "Phinks probably looks forward to kicking his ass. Though, he is Woble's father. Not that Nasubi cares about her."

Machi snorted.

"See you, Danchou," said Feitan.

"You two are okay with Hisoka now, right?"

Feitan scowled. "Still don't like him. But yeah. We okay. We move on and take what we can with us, leave the rest." He glanced at Machi.

 _Ahh. She showed you that._ "If you two get married, I need to be informed first."

"Hey!" shouted Machi. She pushed him. And Feitan laughed.

And then they left. Chrollo rubbed his forehead and stumbled back into his room.

Kurapika was sitting up. "Tell Machi to be more quiet if she doesn't want people to hear."

"I may have provoked her." Chrollo winced as he eased himself back down, lying on his back. "They're dating. I think."

Kurapika arched his eyebrows. "Hisoka's never going to let that one go if he finds out."

"Who's telling?"

"Phinks, probably."

Chrollo snickered. "Probably."

Kurapika peered down at Chrollo. "Is Phinks in Oito's room tonight?"

"They're adults. They can do what they want."

"That's a yes." Kurapika rolled his eyes.

Chrollo reached up and flicked the dangling ruby earring.

"Where do you want to go?" Kurapika asked. "When we leave."

Chrollo rested his arms behind his head. "Where do you want to go? I could go—anywhere." He never had roots.

"Meteor City," answered Kurapika.

"Huh?" That was the last answer Chrollo expected.

"I want to see where you're from," said Kurapika.

_You want to learn more about me._

_You want it all. Everything. All of me._

"It's not a pleasant place," Chrollo warned. "It doesn't smell nice, for example."

"Neither of us have been pleasant people," Kurapika said. He laced his hand with Chrollo's. "Chrollo?"

"Mm?"

"Is that okay? Going there?"

Chrollo nodded. He was nervous. _Because_ _—I want you to like me._

_Because you showed me how to live. You showed me how to escape Meteor City. You showed me how to breathe, break above the waves._

_I love you._

"Chrollo," said Kurapika.

_I want you to love me._

Kurapika hovered over his face. He cupped Chrollo's chin in his hands, pressing his lips into Chrollo's. For the first time since that first night, since that man tried to steal him.

_You're stronger. Stronger than I am._

"Is this okay?" Chrollo rasped as Kurapika pressed deeper.

He nodded, pulling away. "I don't want to—go that far tonight though."

"Of course." Chrollo sat up, crossing his legs. Kurapika looked away, pulse hammering in his throat. "Are you really okay?" _Should I leave?_

Kurapika shook his head. "I apologized to Nobunaga today. For killing Uvogin. He said as long as I am with you, he will tolerate me."

"Thank you for apologizing," Chrollo said softly.

Kurapika swallowed. "Can I tell you about what happened?"

Chrollo clenched his hands around the blankets. He nodded.

Kurapika's voice came flat. Rageless. Chrollo actually missed it. "Anyways, he threatened to kill you. He said he always killed loved ones. He gave me a choice, really, except it wasn't really much of a choice—he knew what I'd do. From the beginning." Kurapika buried his face in his knees. "He said he would kill you, and he didn't really give me a choice. I asked. I said I'd have sex with him if he agreed to let you live. But he wanted me to ask that. I know he did."

Chrollo gripped Kurapika's shoulder. _Oh, Kurapika._ "It's _not_ your fault. You didn't choose anything."

Kurapika let out a sob. "He didn't even— _look_ at me. The entire time. I was just a thing to him."

Chrollo felt like he was going to be sick. _You're not a thing._

"And I—all I could think about was Uvogin—when I killed him, I gave him a choice. Tell me where the rest of the Spiders were, or die, and he told me to die and called me a fool, and he died, and I couldn't help but think that I deserved—it wasn't a choice, I used that to justify myself, but what I gave him wasn't a choice, so I—"

"Fuck _deserve_ ," Chrollo burst out.

Kurapika lifted his face, tear-streaked. "Huh?"

He was crying, too. "You don't—it wasn't karma, it wasn't _deserve_ , it wasn't because some god or fate or whatever decided to write—it was because that man is a cold-hearted lecherous bastard and if he ever gets out of maximum security prison I'll personally ruin his life." He grasped Kurapika's shoulders. "It _wasn't_ because of you. You didn't deserve, and you didn't ask for it—it wasn't because it was supposed to be that way—it was wrong, because he's a selfish prick. It wasn't the same situation at all."

"I feel disgusting," Kurapika admitted. He hung his head.

 _I can't convince him._ Chrollo felt helpless. All he had were his words. "Well, I don't. I think you're—everything I ever needed. You're Kurapika. You're beautiful." _I love you. I want to live the rest of my days with you. I want to_ live _, with you._

"You really think so?" Kurapika asked, voice soft, afraid.

"I know it," Chrollo said. _We made bad choices, you and I, and somehow, you're kind enough to give me another chance, in spite of it all._

"Kiss me," Kurapika requested.

Chrollo's eyes widened. He leaned in, lips gentle. Kurapika kissed him back, mouth exploring Chrollo's. Chrollo lay on his back, Kurapika's weight pressed down on him, joined at the mouths. Not too far. Not today. But—someday.

"I don't like you for sex. I hope you know that," Chrollo managed.

"I'm starting to," Kurapika managed, his teeth nipping Chrollo's neck.

 _Please love me_.

Kurapika pulled back, shifting off Chrollo. But he didn't roll away. He wrapped his arms around Chrollo.

"You're still… a specialist to me," Chrollo tried to joke.

"That," said Kurapika. "Is the worst joke I have ever heard."

Chrollo smirked. Kurapika reached out, tracing his tattoo, and he felt—known. Here, breathing, Kurapika, in his arms, warm.

_To you, I'm not something to be thrown away. You know the worst things I've done, and I hurt you in a way I can never repair, and still, you're holding onto me._

_You're the strongest person I know._

And he knew the answer to his unspoken request. _Love me._

_You already do._

* * *

"Whale Island is fun," Gon said. "At least. I grew up there, and Killua's been, and he thinks it's fun."

Hisoka contemplated throwing himself out of the airship they were using to get to the port just to see their reactions. But he wouldn't. Illumi was trying to play a card game with Alluka and Kalluto. Milluki and Palm were playing a dumb video game with Killua.

"You're not going to like, suddenly turn on Illumi, are you?" asked Gon. "Killua was worried but I said he didn't need to be. You clearly love him."

"Don't push it, kid," Hisoka retorted. "I do like being unpredictable."

Gon arched his eyebrows. "So you do want to fight him?"

Hisoka scowled. "I want to spar with him." Actually, they did spar with each other quite a bit. But he wasn't interested in seeing Illumi fighting for his life again. And Illumi wasn't even sure what to do about the assassin business. Killua told him if he wanted to take care of them, he couldn't do it, and so—well, Hisoka's killing days might be on hold. Until Silva inevitably sent an unfortunate soul after them, though.

He hoped that didn't happen.

_Why?_

Hisoka watched Alluka giggle. Illumi turned and glanced at Hisoka. He was smiling, as if he wanted to laugh, but couldn't quite bring himself to, not yet.

_We'll get there._

Illumi wasn't fully alive when fighting. _He's alive when he's with people he loves._

_And I'm_ _—I'm alive when I'm with you._

Hell, he was alive _because_ of him. Because of the Zoldycks. Hisoka flexed his fingers.

_You taught me._

_Weird. I've never been much of a student._

_But you… to you, I mattered._ He never really considered that he could offer anyone anything more than convenience, pleasure, a laugh, fear, or pain. Hope had never crossed his radar. Truthfully, Hisoka didn't know if he'd thought it existed.

Hisoka's heart skipped a beat when Illumi smiled at him again.

"Are you crying?" Gon leaned closer. "I'm right, aren't I?"

He was not. He just hadn't slept well the night before because he and Illumi were fucking and that's why his eyes were stinging. "You are annoying."

Gon cackled.

"You want to spar, kid?"

Gon's laughing demeanor vanished. "No nen, remember?"

"So? You won a lot of fights without using it, remember? I'll refrain from it, too." Well, maybe. Maybe not. But whatever. "Your life is worth living without your nen."

Without it, he couldn't have survived.

But without it, he felt he _could_ live. At least, he felt that way now. Not that he wanted to risk losing his nen ever. Or his limbs again. He kind of liked being whole.

"That's what Killua says, too," Gon said. A smile broke out. "But if you wanted to help me find a way to get it back…"

"Absolutely not," called Illumi's voice. "Too dangerous."

"Killjoy!"

"Hey!"

"It's—"

"You—"

Hisoka snorted, watching the Zoldycks and Gon go at each other.

Living itself, living with people, risking yourself every day when you peeled back layers for another person to examine your wounds, when you were tethered to the world around you—it was not boring, Hisoka thought. It was not boring at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! I enjoyed writing it and it's def not perfect, but I'm happy with it as a whole I think. If you've been following it, or left a kudos or a comment, please know you have my appreciation!


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